


Chapter 18: The Hunter

by RubyStiff89



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Also here's to my Dad living forever in the Star Wars universe, Din needs a Mandalorian Queen no I wont apologise, Din needs someone who knows about Mandalorian stuff, because you know, raised in a cult and all, we love him dearly but he's a himbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:55:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 46,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29104398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyStiff89/pseuds/RubyStiff89
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Spook Fen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 18: The Hunter

**A few years earlier.**

Din Djarin stood at the mouth of the cavern and extracted the tracking fob from his pocket. It blinked slowly, in the same repetitive pattern since he landed. Sighing, he tucked the fob in his pocket and looked back at the Razor Crest parked several hundred meters away and then back at the deep, black hole sunk into the earth. He had tracked the latest bounty to here, a network of caves on a remote Outer Rim planet and was now cursing Greef Karga. Anytime that old man said a job would be ‘a piece of cake’ or ‘you could do it blindfolded, Mando’ he knew it would be anything but that.

Reaching up he tapped the side of his helmet to turn the torch on before unholstering his blaster and stepping into the darkness. The bounty was ex-Empire, nothing too special when it all went belly up for the Empire on Endor, but was now using his stripes to cause trouble. The Empire had only been out of business for a few years and Din still had a steady stream of work, lots of them being chumps like this one. _Most of them though chose to hide in easier places_ , Din thought as the darkness closed around him. The Twi behind the bar at the cantina in town warned him plenty of people went into these caves and never came out again due to their labyrinthic structure. Din shrugged it off. He had gone into plenty of places no one had ever come out of and done ok.

Under his helmet he could smell stagnant water, soft dirt and the distinctive, musty smell of bat droppings. He advanced steadily, blaster ready, finger on the trigger. His boots sunk into the soft dirt, leaving an indelible trail that he would follow out. The tunnel began to widen and the sound of water dripping grew louder as the tunnel extended into a cavern with three tunnels spanning off from it. Din paused to shine a light up at the ceiling, disturbing the bats that swooped down, screeching and whistling as they ducked and weaved among the stalactites that were the same hue as the red desert outside. The bats cleared as Din shone the light down each tunnel trying to decide which was the most likely. Tilting his head towards the ground he saw boot prints, definitely not his own leading off into the far-left tunnel and began to follow them.

The tunnel narrowed for a while, barely wide enough to allow him to pass, Din having to turn sideways more than once to fit through a gap or duck under a low section. After one narrow part when he had to crawl on his hands and knees, he straightened up into another cavern, smaller than the last but still the size of a small house. Din bent over to dust the sand of his knees and when he straightened up, he saw movement in the corner of his visor. Whipping around, the torchlight bounced off the cavern wall creating jagged shapes as Din felt his heart rate spike. Reaching up he turned off the torch, changing it to infra-red to conceal his position. Scanning his gaze around the room he got a sense of cold blue stone spires reaching for the ceiling. Slowly he turned, knowing he wasn’t imagining the movement, blaster extended into the darkness.

The lash of a whip whistles through the darkness, Din jerking his arm away but instead it coils around his vambrace like a snake before igniting. Din stands frozen, staring down at the glowing white lash of a laser whip that hums with electricity and turns his head, following the lash to its owner. At the end of the whip is a tall, dark shape dressed in a hooded black cloak that pools around their feet, their face concealed. Din jerks his arm away trying to free it, feeling the heat from the lash burning through his vambrace as the owner steps closer and pushes back the hood to reveal a Mandalorian helmet.

Din felt his shoulders slump, wondering if this was a spice dream. He had never met any Mandalorians outside his covert and definitely not one who fought with such a unique weapon. Din stares at the figure who seems to be silently sizing him up as well, trying to form words when suddenly the world erupts in a blinding pool of light.

“Dang farrik kid! We don’t have time for you to muck around with another Mando,” a deep voice rumbles behind Din.

Din twists around, his arm still trapped by the whip as another Mandalorian, much taller and heavily built steps from the shadows, towering over him. Din barely feels a tug on his arm as the whip is released, the white glow vanishing as its retracted. Din raises his arm to block out the blinding torchlight and around it he can just make out the taller figure’s Mandalorian armour that’s painted matt black. The other Mandalorian sweeps past him, Din turning his head to realise they had curves that could only belong to a woman.

“Are you after Darth Royin?” demands the male, turning off his blinding torchlight.

“Who?” is all Din could manage, still staring stupidly at the female Mandalorian, grateful for the helmet hiding his gormless expression.

Din taps his helmet to change it to night vision, bringing the pair in focus. The male is massive, broad shoulders and easily 6 ft 2 dressed in black armour and a short cloak. The female is shorter, more like Din’s height but with a sweeping black cloak with a hood that hangs off her shoulders and floats around her. They both wear matt black armour with a flickering red crystal of some kind in the centre of their chest piece. Judging by their matching armour Din decides they must be relatives, father and daughter perhaps give he referred to her as ‘kid’ even though she’s easily as tall as Din.

“The Sith that hides in these caves,” the male repeats impatiently.

“No?” Din replies wanting to ask what the hell a Sith is.

“Right, well I suggest you clear out. Whatever you’re in here after will be dead and we’re after the Sith and you don’t want to be around when we find him. Nice meeting you. Come on kiddo,” with that the male turns heel and stalks into the darkness.

The female sweeps past him, pulling the hood of her cloak over her helmet. Din watches as the darkness swallows her, like a drifting ghost suddenly full of questions about who were they, what covert did they come from, what bounty were they after and what was a Sith. All those questions fade away as Din realises all he really wants to know was their names. The silence settled all around Din as suddenly he felt very alone in the darkness. Pulling out the tracking fob he realised it had gone dark meaning the bounty was dead.

It would be one of the few times Din came back to Nevarro empty handed.

*****

The X4 Gunship, stripped off its rebellion markings slowly turned above the surface of the planet before coming to rest near the edge of the cliff. A lone figure stood at a distance watching the ship power down and as the rear door begins to open, he strides forwards his long black cloak fluttering. It’s a grey day, as they usually are on this planet with heavy clouds threatening rain at any moment and a relentless wind that gusts over the cliffs. The figure stops a short distance from the lowered tailgate, feeling the heat wafting off the engines as a figure finally emerges from the darkness of the ship.

He reaches up with gloved hands, removing the hood from his face revealing a confused, boyish face. “I expected your father,” Luke Skywalker states.

The Mandalorian comes to a halt before him, taller and definitely wider despite there clearly being a female under the matt black armour and a similar flowing black cloak. The only feature in the otherwise black armour is the flickering red crystal at the centre of the chest plate.

“I’m sure you of all people would appreciate how much I love hearing that,” returns the curt female voice with a drawling, native Mandalorian accent.

Annoyance crosses Luke’s face as the Mandalorian shrugs lazily. “I got places to be so you either have a job for me or you don’t.”

“I do.” Luke turns, his cloak flowing around him as rain begins to spit from the low hanging clouds. The Mandalorian slinks after him like a dark shadow, silent apart from the flapping of her cloak towards a large bell-shaped building surrounded by a collection of smaller wooden huts. They have nearly reached the door when the heavens open properly, rain streaming down in soaking sheets.

“So, you’ve found another Sith for me?” she prompts, following Luke into the darkness of the hallway.

“No. I need you to deliver something,” Luke doesn’t look back as he speaks, his cloak floating along the cobbles.

“I’m not a postal service. My father and I are-“ she says in annoyance.

“Sith hunters. I know, Spook,” Luke stops to look back at her, his face softening into a smile. “I’m glad to see you finally made your first kill judging by the kyber crystal in breastplate and that you’re now carrying the family weapon. It’s a comfort knowing that there are others who I can count on to help me restore balance and peace to the galaxy. That’s why I called on you.”

“Or my father,” she responds dryly, her gloved hand resting on the loop at her left side where the laser whip hangs coiled from.

Luke smiles. “On second thoughts you may be better suited to this task than your father. How is Lew Fen?”

“He’s fine. Back on Vandor guarding the coaxium in the mountains,” she replies shortly.

Luke nods, pushing open a door revealing a wide chamber with a high domed roof. There’s a dozen or so children of varying ages and races, mostly human but there are a couple of Twi’s and one Kel Dorian- all pupils of Luke’s new Jedi Order. Some are practicing with pretend lightsabres, others are in flight simulators, a few are reading and one human child with dark fluffy hair is writing lines on the board in Galatic Basic with Luke’s faithful droid R2 supervising him. As Luke leads her past them some greet Master Luke but most are engrossed in whatever they are doing. _I will not use the force to steal treats from the kitchen_ the small boy writes in surprisingly beautiful handwriting across the board. He stops writing to watch Luke sweep past before R2 beeps at him in annoyance, prompting him to return to his lines. Luke leads the Mandalorian across the room and down another corridor, the sound of the pelting rain getting louder the further down the corridor they travelled. The heavy door opens revealing a round room without a roof with soft moss underfoot, vines growing up the stone walls and the rain cascading down into the room. There’s something otherworldly about this room, like the entire outside atmosphere has been contained in the small, circular room.

At the centre is a small creature with its back to them, hovering a couple of meters above the ground, his long ears twitching gently and its tiny hands clasped on its lap. His skin is a healthy frog green, wrinkled and it is dressed in soft brown robes. The most remarkable thing was the rain being deflected as if hitting an invisible dome and dropping to the ground below. Luke glanced at the Mandalorian beside him, grinning up at the expressionless visor that’s reminiscent of cat-eyes before turning back to the creature.

“Grogu,” he called out softly.

The ears twitch sharply, a single rain drop breaking through the invisible dome and splattering on his head. He slowly descends, landing on his feet and turning to face them. He’s tiny, less than 60cm tall dressed in dark brown Jedi style robes. He looks up at them with round eyes as dark as deep space set into a wrinkly green face with long fathier like ears before flopping onto his backside and cooing cheerfully with his arms raised clearly asking to be picked up. Luke steps out into the rain scooping him up, before stepping back under the shelter and handing him to Spook.

She fumbles, not expecting him to hand her this… thing… child. “What… what’s this?”

“This is Grogu. He has completed his Jedi training, I cannot train him anymore he must go out into the world and learn from the harshest master of all- life,” Luke says.

Spook looks down at Grogu who coos cheerfully at her as two little hands tipped with three sharp claws on each hand make grabby motions at her helmet. Luke folds his hands under his robes and smiles affectionately at Grogu. “He has been an excellent student, one of my best I suspect but it’s now time for him to return to his father.”

Spook looks up at Luke in surprise. “His father?”

Luke has turned away and is heading back up the dark corridor. Spook glances down at Grogu and then hurries after him. “So… I’m looking for a little green dude?”

“Grogu will guide you to him,” Luke answers mysteriously.

“Nah don’t give me your airy-fairy Jedi rot… I’m gonna need some coordinates,” Spook demands striding after Luke.

“Start in Nevarro.”

“That’s better,” Spook says to Grogu who’s happily looking around himself. “Who’s his father?”

“You’ll know when you meet him,” Luke doesn’t look back drifting through the darkness, almost seeming to float above the cobbles.

Spook strides after him, glancing down at Grogu. “So that’s it? No name? You expect me to search the galaxy for the father of this creature when I don’t even know what this creature is?”

Luke stops and looks back at her with a mysterious grin. “To borrow one of your Mandalorian sayings… This is the way. And he’s sixty-five. A child by his species standards but a fully-fledged Jedi.”

Luke has turned to open the door as Spook stares after him. “He is HOW old?”

Luke steps into the brightly lit central room of the Jedi Temple and claps his hands to get the attention of his students. “Everyone! Grogu is leaving us today to go re-join his family. We have all benefitted from his time here but it’s now time for him to leave us and go out into the universe, as you all will someday.”

Spook sets Grogu down on a nearby table and steps back as the children gather around, chattering excitedly. The kid writing lines leaves the board and stands next to Luke looking up at him with imploring eyes. “Is Mum or Dad coming to take me with them soon?”

Spook watches as Luke’s face clouds as he reaches out to rest a hand gently on his head. “You have much to learn still Ben. You best go say goodbye to Grogu, I know how much you’ll miss him and your midnight raiding parties to the kitchen.”

He smiles up at his uncle before joining the throng of children saying their goodbyes, Grogu at the centre cooing and gurgling happily. Spook turns to Luke. “That’s Leia’s kid?” she asks her voice soft.

Luke nods, his eyes distant. “The Skywalker blood runs fast in his veins… but I worry about him.”

Spook watches him for a moment, those beautiful big eyes that are rapidly filling with tears as he says his goodbyes. “When was the last time he saw his parents?”

Luke looks at her and then away again just as rapidly. “Leia is heavily involved in stabilising the New Republic. I couldn’t tell you where Han is.”

Spook doesn’t answer but interprets that as ‘awhile’ and lets out a soft but uneasy sigh. For her entire life, all Spook knew was her father’s love and warmth, never apart from him as a child for any longer than a week when he left her in the care of their nurse droid to do jobs. When she was in her early teens, he would take her on smaller, less risky jobs teaching her to fight, shoot a blaster and fly his ship. By the time she was twenty they were fighting together as a team and now she’s in her thirties she’s mostly making solo missions, leaving him to guard the coaxium stash they stumbled on to prevent it falling in the wrong hands. She couldn’t imagine being this young and not seeing her father for what seemed like months, if not years. She knows the Jedi are different, that those who can wield the force are often removed from their families to train at Jedi Temples like this one from a young age, but it feels wrong. Mandalorian culture revolves around family and the creed. It defies nature to separate children from their parents for any reason.

Sometime later Spook is striding across the grass that’s soaking wet and dragging at her cloak, with Grogu in her arms and Luke beside her. The kids have gathered on an upstairs balcony and she can hear them yelling out their goodbyes. As the tail gate of her ship lowers, she turns to look at Luke, wanting to ask more about Grogu’s Dad but the Jedi cuts off her question with a sage ‘May the force be with you.’ She mumbles her response of ‘and also with you’ before striding into the ship. The tailgate closes behind her as she slinks up to the cockpit, shedding her cloak along the way, draping it over a crate of ammo.

Entering the cockpit, she places Grogu in the co-pilots seat and sits in the captain’s chair, swivelling around and reaching for the buttons. “You get to ride shotgun little fella. How’s that sound?” she says, powering the ship up. With a shudder, the ion engines ignite and the ship lifts off the ground, the landing gear tucking into the hull with a dull clunk.

Spook points the ship up, towards space while finding the coordinates for Navarro in the computer. Last she heard that place was a real dump, full of guild members and a Mandalorian covert hidden in the sewers under the market. Her father spoke highly of the Armourer there, Spook wondering if she should get her armour looked at as it had been a while since hers was looked over by a professional. As the ship exited the atmosphere, Spook jumped slightly as Grogu sunk his claws into her flight suit as he attempts to crawl up her leg. Spook let go of the joystick for a moment and reached down, settling him on her lap.

“Or you can sit on my lap, that’s fine too,” she muttered before pulling back on the hyperdrive. The ship pauses, vibrating from deep within its engines before the world around her blurs into streaks of white against black.

***

It takes almost two days in hyperdrive to cross the galaxy from the Outer Rim planet where Luke had set up his Jedi Boarding School for kids with absent parents to Nevarro, a former volcanic planet dotted with lava fields. In those two days the little green gremlin had eaten anything Spook could find that was sweet, found her secret stash of lollies hidden in a wall panel of the bathroom and had trashed parts of her ship while she was asleep. He would eat meat and vegetables sometimes, when she sufficiently proved there was nothing left sweet on the ship which is when he found her stash. After that she had a hard time proving there genuinely was nothing left but eventually, he got hungry enough to eat some kod’yak meat she cut into small enough chunks and some root vegetables from Yavin 4.

Landing the ship on the outskirts of Nevarro, Spook finds an old canvas bag that slings around her neck and settles him into it, pulling her cloak over the top of it to conceal him. If Nevarro is how she remembered, she’d need both hands free. Slinging her sniper rifle over her shoulder she makes sure all her weapons are functional before stepping outside and striding towards the city gates. The brightly coloured flags flapping in the wind confused her until she entered the city limits and stood staring at the colourful marketplace. Nevarro it seems, had received a New Republic sponsored facelift since she was last here.

Setting off at a slower pace, Spook takes in the marketplace, the different races mingling together and the general feeling of peace in the outpost of the Outer Rim. All manner of goods on offer in the market place and Spook takes her time to examine what’s on offer, even making a few small purchases. Nevarro is nothing like she remembered, barely recognising the old cantina that’s now… a school? There’s also a statue of an IG droid in the town square which is weird but she’s seen weirder. Eventually she finds the New Republic outpost and decides to start asking there.

The mythrol behind the desk looks up, swears and releases a puff of oxygen from his humidi-suit before looking at her properly. “Oh boy I thought you was someone else… phew.. glad you’re not though,” he gasps.

Spook watches him an amusement as he shuffles his papers. “Is this Nevarro or have I huffed too much spice again?”

“Yeah, well we’re a respectable New Republic outpost these days. What can I do you for? I mean do for you?” he stumbles over his words.

Spook is about to answer when a door across the room slides open and a woman steps into the room, eyes trained on the papers she’s carrying. She addresses the mythrol bluntly before looking up and realising Spook is stood in the sunlight streaming through the open doorway and startles slightly herself. Spook’s eyes fall on the Rebellion stripes on her arms in interest. A shock trooper. She’s beautiful in a fierce kind of way, with that delicate little tattoo beneath her eye and yet guns that could snap Spook’s neck if she really wanted to. The shock trooper squares up to Spook.

“I’m Marshall Cara Dune. Can I help you?” she demands levelly.

“I’m looking for-“ Spook begins but is cut off by Grogu in the carrier cooing loudly, his grabby little hands reaching out from under the cloak in Cara’s direction. Spook reaches down to shush him, pushing his hands under the cloak and when she looks up Cara Dune has crossed the room and has a blaster pointed in her face.

“Give me that child, now,” she growls, taking the safety off the blaster.

“If you would let me finish, I’m taking him to his father. Luke Skywalker has sent me,” Spook returns dryly.

The blaster wavers, Cara’s eyes widening. “The Jedi sent you?”

Spook nods, turning the carrier around so that Grogu can see Cara who he seems to know. Cara holsters the blaster, her face softening as she motions for Spook to follow her. Grogu is cooing up a storm as she follows her into the hallway, the door sliding shut behind her. At the back of the Marshall’s office Cara has a small, untidy apartment set up for herself that’s comprised of a kitchen, bed and bathroom off to one side. Cara Dune spins around and practically snatches Grogu from the carrier, her face split into one of the most beautiful smiles Spook has seen in a while as she holds him up in the air above her head.

“I missed you little guy. You been good? Yeah? You don’t look much bigger than I remember,” Cara coos at him. She looks up at Spook and grins sheepishly. “That mythrol thinks I’m a bitch. I’m not about to let him know otherwise.”

“So, you know his father?” Spook motions at Grogu, amused at how quickly the tough Shock Trooper exterior just vanished.

“Din Djarin. He’s not here though.”

“Dang farrik,” Spook mutters. “Kid’s half destroyed my ship already. Do you know where he’s at?”

Cara grins at Spook like she understands. “Sorry no. I actually haven’t seen him since this little guy went off with the Jedi.”

Spook stares at her for a few moments before sliding into the seat next to her. “Is Din Djarin a Jedi?”

“No?” Cara manages a fleeting, curious look sideways glance at Spook, too busy avoiding Grogu’s grabby hands.

“So, what’s his Dad do?”

Cara seems to match Spook’s confusion, her face seeming to say ‘ _don’t you know?_ ’. “Last I saw him he was working with Bo Katan trying to retake Mandalore.”

“Kriff… as in Bo Katan Kryze? Psychotic red headed Mandalorian in blue armour?”

“That’s her. Pretty ruthless warrior but I wouldn’t want to work with or for her,” Cara Dune mutters. “Not again anyways.”

Spook groans. “That’s going to be a real skank in the scud pie.”

“Why?”

“Bo Katan is what you might call a sworn enemy of my family, of my father in particular,” Spook leans back in her chair, rubbing her gloved finger tips on the table in annoyance.

Cara looks at her curiously. “I think she’s the sworn enemy of a few families. What happened?”

Spook heaves a sigh and gestures with one hand. “Long story short Bo Katan is the reason why Mandalore went to hell in a handbasket. We can sit here and argue politics and who did what but she joined Death Watch who were pro-violence when her sister, the Duchess was anti-violence. They were treated as a joke, marooned out on Concordia, until she got cosy with Sith which went about as well as you might imagine. My father was an advisor to her sister, tried to warn Duchess Satine, that her sister had gone rogue but it was too late. He only just escaped with me off world before Death Watch launched their attack. I was too young to remember but Bo Katan hunted for my father for a bit to knock him over because he knew too much. Then when the Sith lost control of the planet the Empire used Mandalore as target practice as its basically been a wasteland ever since.”

Cara chews her lip and frowns. “You need to tell Din she has had dealings with the Sith when you find him. I’m willing to bet she hasn’t told him that.”

Spook nods. “Any ideas where I can find them?”

Cara shrugs loosely. “They got their hands on an Imperial Light Cruiser to use in their efforts to retake Mandalore, I’ve heard rumors they’re gathering an army so they could be anywhere. I backed out of that escapade. I’ve got my hands full here.”

Spook watches her curiously for a moment. “Nevarro’s face lift is your doing?”

Cara shrugs, smiling modestly. “I had help and the people of this planet wanted to leave the past behind them. Din helped us Greef and myself get rid of the last traces of the Empire and now it’s a reasonably safe planet. I’m just grateful the New Republic could see the benefit in tidying the planet up.”

Spook processes this in quiet amazement that Cara Dune, former rebellion Shock Trooper turned Marshall of the New Republic had taken a rough frontier planet and turned it into a remote, but respectable outpost. Grogu looks the sleepiest he has been since they left the Jedi Temple, tucked under her chin, his eyes droopy. Spook remembers the Armourer that used to be here but then pushes the question away. It’s not protocol to ask an _aruetii_ about a Mandalorian covert, not that Cara Dune would likely know where it was anyways.

Spook sighs, watching Grogu. Maybe she should try Mos Eisley, space ports were useful for information at least. “He really likes you.”

Cara tilts her head to look down at him. “He’s a special kid. Luke must really trust you if he tasked you with taking him back to Din.”

“Could have been more specific with the directions,” Spook mutters.

Cara opens her mouth to ask something but her sentence is cut short by older man with dark skin and greying hair busting through the door. Spook draws her blaster but Cara leans across holding a hand up assuring her he’s a friend as Greef Karaga’s face splits into a wide smile. Grogu turns his head a coos a little, the older man sweeping around the table and holding his hands out for Grogu.

“No! I got here first!” she protests but Grogu holds his arms out to be picked up by the older man. Grudgingly, Cara hands him over as the older man holds him at eye level making almost the same ridiculous noises Cara just did.

“Look at our handsome little man! Have the nice Jedi been taking care of you? Such flash little robes too!” he cries. The older man turns his head and looks at Spook seemingly to realise for the first time she’s not Jedi.

“Who’s this?” he jerks his head at Spook.

“Spook Fen, Luke Skywalker tasked me to take him back to his Dad,” Spook replies.

Greef tucks Grogu into his arm and is eyeing her armour. “Is that a crystal in your chest plate?”

Spook nods. “A kyber crystal. I pulled it out of the lightsabre of the Sith I killed.”

Cara’s eyes go wide and Greef stares in silent amazement. “You killed… a Sith?” she says finally.

Spook looks between them and shrugs almost in boredom. “Family occupation.”

Greef looks at Grogu and shakes his head slightly. “No wonder the Jedi trusted you.”

“You have any ideas where Din is?” Cara looks up at Greef.

The older man shakes his head. “No… sorry. I gave him half a dozen fobs and the loan of a clean ship. He brought back all six bounties, I paid him, he kept the ship and haven’t seen him since.”

“I didn’t even see him that day, that’s how quick he was,” Cara mutters sounding offended. “He hasn’t been anywhere near Nevarro since.”

“Cut him some slack,” Greef says softly.

“I better get on my way, try to find him before this kid eats everything on my ship and destroys the rest,” Spook offers, hoping they will willingly hand over the child and she won’t have to fight them for him. Especially Cara, that woman is gorgeous and a natural with the kid but Spook suspects she’d pack a punch.

Cara beats Spook to Grogu as Greef hurries out to say he’ll meet them at Spook’s ship. Sure, enough he does, Cara walks Spook to her ship where Greef has a whole sack of supplies including a box of bright blue cookies which he hands to Grogu personally. The pair say their goodbyes, Grogu waving adorably over her shoulder at them as she strides up the walkway that closes behind them. Leaving the bag of supplies in the cargo area she carries Grogu up to the cockpit and nearly puts him on the front seat before deciding to let him sit on her lap. He seems happiest there. Spook does a fly over the city, noting the two figures at the gate waving at her ship and makes a noise of interest under her helmet. This kid really seems to open doors.

On the edge of space, Spook’s hand hesitates over the map, Tatoonie hovering under her fingertips before changing her mind and punching in the coordinates for Vandor. While she had enough fuel to get her to both locations, she needed to fill up eventually and needed to see her father. This job was no longer as simple as delivering a kid back to his father. Bo Katan’s potential involvement just made things trickier and Spook needed her father’s guidance.

It took three more days in hyperdrive to reach Vandor and by this stage Spook had learnt a valuable lesson to only let Grogu have a few cookies at a time. A bright blue stain now adorned his adorable Jedi robes which would have to be washed out in Vandor. He would pick and choose what he ate, sometimes meat and vegetables and other times turning his nose up at it for no apparent reason. She also tried to settle him in his own separate sleeping area but it was no good; he’d crawl out and scuttle across the floor before climbing into her cot. And if his claws couldn’t get a purchase on the legs of her cot, he’d sit next to it and make noise until she lifted him up so he could settle in the crook of her arm.

After Endor, Spook and her father acquired this ship, stripped it of its colourings and fitted more powerful guns to it. The X4 was primarily Spook’s ship, her father had taken a step back from active duty, still a capable warrior but at seventy was showing his age. It was on one of her jobs that Spook found the base and went back to Yavin 4 where her father was hiding out and brought him here. They both hated the cold but recognized that there was enough coaxium in the mountains, in storage and in the refinery that wouldn’t take much to get working again to kickstart the Empire. It wasn’t much but they both decided to set up shop here to guard it for as long as they could.

The base sat perched halfway up the mountain like an eagle’s nest with a landing pad on the roof that only just large enough to fit the X4. When the plant was operational everything was transported onto the base by rail that was destroyed at some point, now a twisted snake of metal that wraps around the base of the mountain. Some of the tunnels had collapsed but the mess hall and dormitories were still functional, taking very little for them to get comfortable. Spook lands the ship and powers down before heading into the cargo bay with Grogu. Finding a warm blanket, she swaddles him tightly before tucking him into the carrier and collecting the bag of supplies.

By passing the main deck of the base, Spook carefully winds her way down the narrow staircase headed for the main tunnel burrowed into the side of the mountain. The wind gusts up the mountain, blowing flurries of snow against her visor and Grogu huddles deeper into the bag. At the bottom of the staircase, Spook skirts around the jagged face of the mountain along a narrow path before descending into the main tunnel. The torch on her helmet reflects the ice that has frozen over the rails and crunches heavily under her boots. Grogu pokes his head out of the bag slung around her neck as she nears the end of the tunnel where a heavy blast door shuts the tunnel off from the outside world. Spook bangs her fist heavily on the door and yells her arrival to her father who she can hear shuffling around inside. Moments later the door creaks open, warmth and light glowing through into the darkness. Spook brushes through the gap, shrugging out of her cape and dropping snow on the floor.

Despite ticking over seventy summers last year, Lew Fen still has the bearing of a proud Mandalorian warrior, standing well over six foot tall with broad shoulders and long legs. Spook wasn’t as tall or as lanky, inheriting a little more of her mother’s features, but still above average height and build beside most women. He isn’t wearing his full armour, just his helmet, hilariously paired with thermals, a fluffy jacket and slippers.

Her father stares down at Grogu and then back at her. “What’s this? I didn’t say you could have a pet.”

“It’s the job Luke got in contact with you for. He got a little snotty I showed up, you know what the Jedi are like,” Spook mutters, glad to feel the warmth seeping through her layers.

“Or Skywalkers to be precise,” her Dad mutters. Spook turns the bag around so her Dad can look at Grogu properly who is cooing up at him. “Its a… is it a child?”

“Apparently he’s sixty-five but in their species terms he’s still a baby.”

“I don’t get it… why is this a job?”

“I have to deliver him to his father, but I need your input before I go any further,” Spook replies crossing the room. She reaches into the bag and unwraps Grogu from his blanket burrito and places him on the table. She turns around and her father is holding out his arms. Spook places the bag down and crosses the room, reaching up to clasp her father’s helmet between both hands as he does the same and gently touches the forehead of his helmet against hers.

“ _Ad’ika_.”

“ _Bu’ir_ ,” she replies affectionately in a greeting they have done for as long as she could remember.

Her father removes his hands from the side of her helmet but wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close while looking across the room at Grogu whose watching them with his head tilted. Spook wraps her arm around her father’s midriff, feeling his warmth and love radiate off him like a furnace.

“So, his Dad is a Jedi?”

“Apparently not. All I have is a name and where he’s been. Din Djarin who I think is a native of Nevarro. I don’t even know what species this guy is to know where to start looking.”

The old man lets go of his daughter, crossing the room and pulls up a chair at the table. Grogu ambles across the table top and sits down in front of him. “Could be an extinct species or even a cloned one from the Empire, I hear they started doing some weird shit towards the end there. I’ve never seen anything like him.”

“Ever?”

“Nope. Not even close. I’m glad you came when you did, we’re in for weather. Another few hours and you wouldn’t be able to land on this side of the mountain,” Lew answers.

Spook nods, scanning her gaze around the room. The old mess hall was barely recognizable as a former Empire processing plant, the first thing her father did was rip down anything Empire and burn it. He then installed a large fire place at the centre of the room with a vent that sucked the smoke out of the room, mostly while raging about how anyone was expected to work in this deep freeze without an adequate fire to keep them warm. Between the furniture they brought from their hideout on Yavin 4 and other bits they picked up later, the mess hall and bedrooms off to the side were warm and cosy.

Lew reaches out and gently stroke’s Grogu’s ears. “He’s a cute little bugger. What happened here?”

Spook looks around at the blue stain and shrugs, wondering if her Dad has cooked anything since she left. “Blue cookies the Marshall of Nevarro gave him.”

“They’ve got a Marshall these days?” her father looks around at her in suprise.

Spook drops into the chair beside her father and explains how Nevarro is now a respectable frontier planet being run by the Guild boss Greef Karga and former rebellion Shock Trooper Cara Dune. Lew’s eyes darken as she continues with how they don’t know where his father is but could possibly be with Bo Katan trying to retake Mandalore.

“First off… I’m surprised that bitch has been killed by one of her own. I had hoped between the fall of Mandalore and now, someone had taken one for the team and knocked her over. For seconds, she has some nerve trying to retake Mandalore considering she’s a big chunk of the reason why we’re scattered through the galaxy in hiding,” Lew mutters darkly. He pauses for a moment as Grogu examines his hands with his chubby green claws.

Spook gazes at Grogu for a long time, her dark eyes conflicted. “Should we be taking this kid back to him… if he’s working with Bo Katan?”

Lew shrugged. “Luke gave you a job to do which is take the kid back to his Dad. We’re not getting paid for you to ask questions… but I know what you’re saying.”

Grogu looks between them and coos again. Spook sighs, winding her long plait around her hand absently. She’s tired and hungry. There’s no evidence her father has started cooking which means she’ll have to. Greef gave her some really nice supplies from Nevarro, vegetables, batha meat and even some spotchka. She looks across at her father whose large thumb has been captured by the adorable green gremlin.

“He reminds me of you at that age,” her father says softly.

“Gee thanks Dad,” she mutters.

“You would wrap your little hand around my thumb and you had no hair whatsoever… big eyes deep eyes as dark as deep space and you always looked like you was about to get into mischief,” her Dad continues.

“I wasn’t green, though was I?” Spook says teasingly. “I better get some food on.”

Spook has just reached down to unclip her breastplate when the motion sensors they set up for incoming craft starts beeping across the room. Lew scoops Grogu up and crosses the room to the cameras they rigged to the front of the plant pointed across the lake. The screen flickers to life as Spook joins him, watching as the cameras struggle to focus on anything in the already swirling snow. Across the frozen lake they can just make out a small ship has landed- no markings, possibly early empire or even older but it’s hard to tell at that distance.

“Pirates?” Spook asks.

“Could be. Take the sniper rifle and send them off from a distance if you can. Try not to go out on the ice, it thawed a little in the last few days and isn’t stable all the way across,” Lew orders. “I’ll watch the little guy.”

Spook collects the sniper rifle and sweeps her cloak over her shoulders again. She pauses at the door to nod at her father who’s cradling Grogu in his arm like an actual baby, before slipping back out into the cold. It only takes her a few moments to reach the mouth of the tunnel where her father is right- the weather is about to take a turn for the worse. The wind has already picked up speed, gusting sharply up the jagged peaks as Spook begins to wind her way down the mountain to her favourite gunner position that’s the best for picking off threats as they come across the lake, which usually is enough. It’s mostly pirates from various factions who come looking for the coaxium, remembering the old plant and once they realise, they’re being shot at the usually go away. Occasionally they get visited by someone foolhardy enough to face the sniper and so far no one has pushed their luck with a Mando. But there have been others and both Spook and her father know it’s only a matter of time before something with a lot more firepower comes looking for the old base and its contents.

In the gunner position, Spook unclips her rifle and settles in the look out, peering through the scope of her rifle as snow settles on her shoulders and head. It takes her a moment to find the ship- that’s definitely old and ratty enough to be Pirates. She scans around for a moment but can’t see any figures around the ship, wondering if they’ve decided to bunker down. That would be the smart thing to do which would suit Spook who’s already feeling the cold. Pack it up and save it for when the weather clears. Across the lake she can see snow flurries already building up against the side of the ship when suddenly the rear door lowers. A single figure strides out into the deep snow as the rear door closes and it turns to survey the area. Spook’s looks up from her sniper rifle questioning if she saw right and looks back again.

The visitor is wearing Mandalorian armour.

Spook digs in her pocket for her communicator and contacts her father. “We’ve got a Mandalorian.”

“A what?” he exclaims after a few moments followed by “what clan?”

“He’s a _Cin Vhetin_. Zero markings or colours, just pure, unpainted beskar. The whole kit is solid beskar the greedy bastard,” Spook replies.

“Unpainted is sometimes a sign of mourning,” her father reminds her like he hadn’t schooled her on clan colours at the same time she learnt colour names as a toddler.

“Or unoriginality. Should I sniper him?” Spook responds dryly.

There’s a pause, Spook nearly repeating the question when he father answers. “No. Go down and send him off the Mandalorian way. He may not be of the Watch but he isn’t a common pirate either.”

“Roger that.”

“Come back alive,” her father commands.

Spook pockets the communicator and slings the sniper rifle over her shoulder. There’s an obvious path that he seems to be heading towards across the ice but Spook knows of one that winds down the mountain, hiding you from below that she can sneak up on him from. Sure, enough she has settled into position at the foot of the mountain by which time he has reached the foot of the narrow path and is staring up the mountain, hands on hips. Leaving her sniper rifle propped against a rock, Spook pulls out her blaster and steps out to greet the intruder by bouncing a single blaster shot off the back of his helmet.

The stranger barely seems to register the blow, already spinning around and returning fire which whizzes past Spook’s thigh, punching a near perfect hole through her cape. Spook holds the cape up and the stares back at him in disgust.

“Are you a Jedi?” he yells above the wind.

Spook answers by sprinting towards him across the ice while firing at him, her specialised boots easily giving her traction. He fires one shot that goes wide before she reaches him, dropping to her knees and skidding towards him, knocking his legs out from under him. He goes down heavily with a grunt, Spook already on her feet pinning his left arm under her boot as she lands heavily as he fires upwards at her narrowly missing her head as she lands knee first on his chest plate. He drops his blaster, going for her throat. Spook pulls away, shifting her boot off his arm just enough that he’s able to pull that leg out from under her flipping her onto her back. Panting heavily with exertion, the stranger tries to roll on top of her but Spook anticipated this, both legs already doubled under her and has flipped him over her head the second he’s on top of her.

The stranger lands heavily on the ice and skids a few meters as Spook leisurely gets to her feet, realising she’s enjoying this. Sith fight very differently and most are completely useless once you separate them from their lightsabre, that’s provided Spook hasn’t sniper-ed them first. She thinks about pulling out the laser whip and then decides not, instead wanting to toy with the stranger for a little longer. On top of that it’s been years since she’s fought another Mandalorian. Whoever he is, he fights very efficiently, despite currently struggling to get to his feet on the ice. From behind his jetpack he pulls out a spear, also made of beskar and uses it to get purchase in the ice to pull himself upright.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he holds up his free-hand.

“Because you’re losing?” Spook steps across the ice towards him.

He looks up, like he’s just registered for the first time she’s a woman and is leaning heavily on the spear. “I seek the coaxium in the mountain, I don’t want to kill you.”

Spook laughs, stopping about a meter away. The wind by now is threatening to blow them both over and the blizzard is setting in, reducing visibility by the minute. “Neither of those things are going to happen so you should probably go back the way you came.”

He swings the spear out of nowhere with surprising aggression, Spook twirling out of the way but managing to wrap her foot around his knee as he twisted and easily upending him. The stranger lands heavily on the ice, rolling out of the way as Spook goes for the spear, eager to get it out of his hands and wondering where on earth he scored three-quarters of the galaxy’s reserve of beskar. She lands half on him, trying to pin him with her knee and grabbing the spear but he recoils it and easily uses the momentum to flip her over his head across the ice but loses grip on the spear in the process.

Spook lands on her knees and skids backwards, using one hand to balance, with the spear in her other hand as the wind whips through her cloak. The stranger struggles to his feet, clearly pissed off now as she gracefully stands, admiring the spear in her hands. It’s beautiful and balanced so nicely. She looks up to ask him where he got it when he pulls his last weapon from behind his back.

Spook’s shoulders slump as the stranger ignites the Dark Sabre and stands staring her down across the ice. Despite leaving Mandalore as an infant, her father told her stories and interwoven in all the stories of civil war, triumph, battles, the Empire and names like Tarre Vizla, Sabine Wren, Clan Saxon, Bo Katan Kyrze and Duchess Satine was the Dark Sabre, now being brandished by this stranger. Spook stares at him, her mind spinning with questions as he points it at her.

“I will only say this once. I don’t-“ he begins but is cut off by the ice splitting under his feet as he vanished from sight, swallowed by the icy waters.

Spook is frozen on the spot for a moment, hardly believing anything that has happened in the last twenty seconds and then suddenly feels like she’s been hit with a jolt of electricity. Swearing, she drops the spear and skids forward across the ice, ripping her cloak off, aware of the ice crackling beneath her feet. Bubbles rise up through the inky black water as Spook swears again, hoping that the stranger could at least swim a little bit but he hasn’t even floated towards the surface. Spook takes half a step backwards and then dives into the water after him.

The freezing water hits her like stab wounds all over her body, her nerve endings so confused they are sending hot water signals instead of cold. The Mandalorian has sunk like a shiny beskar stone as Spook reaches him, grabbing hold of the scruff of his flight suit before kicking powerfully up. He’s heavy but his natural buoyance helps Spook pull him up to the surface aware that he’s stopped struggling which is never a good sign. Breaching the surface, Spook gasps for air feeling like the knives are on the inside as well. She knows from practice with her father she has two minutes to get them both out of the water or they will both be in trouble. He has gone completely dead weight in her arms and she didn’t hear him gasp for air when they broached the surface. Lucky for him though, she practiced this manoeuvre with her Dad whose much larger and heavier for an exact scenario like this one.

Floating him on his back, Spook kicks through the water pushing him to the closest edge. It takes a little manoeuvring before she manages to push him onto the ice before forcing her limbs that are in danger of cramping up straight so she can roll herself out as well. The ice creaks and groans under her, closest to the mountain but holds as she carefully manoeuvres around him, teeth chattering painfully under her helmet as she pulls him across the ice. He still isn’t breathing and Spook glances down realising the Dark Sabre is frozen in his grip. Spook curses loudly and colourfully into the now howling wind before ripping her helmet off and reaching for his. Ice water gushes out of his helmet as she pulls it off, his lips are blue and eyes frozen shut. Wasting no time, Spook leans down, parting his lips with hers and blows into his lungs.

It takes several breaths, Spook finding a pulse before he heaves a gasp on his own, coughing and spluttering up water as Spook rolls him onto his side. Visibility is dropping is almost zero, the world reduced to a swirling canvas of white. Letting him roll onto his back, Spook gets up and quickly skirting around the hole in the ice, she grabs her cloak from where she dropped it and lays it out beside him. He’s unconscious probably from shock but breathing shallowly, icicles already forming in his tousled brown hair and facial hair as she rolls him onto the cloak, dropping both their helmets on his chest before using it as a sled to pull him across the ice. At the base of the mountain, they set up a lower gunner position as one of their many hideouts and stocked it with supplies. Blizzards often come out of nowhere and sometimes it’s simply too dangerous to go all the way up the mountain hence why they set up a couple of these nooks for emergencies. 

At the foot of the mountain, she loops her hands under his armpits and hauls him backwards towards the mouth of the hideout. Both their helmets tumble off his chest, settling in the gathering snow as Spook manoeuvres him into the tiny, cramped space and drops him on the floor heavily. She ducks back out to grab their helmets, the wind knifing through her wet clothes agonizingly before she scuttles back in and closes the small blast door behind her. The fuel for the fire is dry but it takes a couple of minutes with shaking hands to get the lighter to ignite the kod’yak dung that burns smokeless but smelly though at this stage Spook couldn’t care less provided it warmed them up. Spook rummages in a heavy wooden box they store the supplies in before pulling out every blanket in the box, most made from kod’yak fur.

Turning her attention to the Mandalorian, Spook runs her fingers under his chest plate to find the join. It clicks open satisfyingly, clearly designed by an expert though most sets of Mandalorian armour are built off the same specs. Piece by piece she pulls him out of his armour, settling it aside with fingers that are struggling to work, aware of her own hair frozen to the side of her head. The last thing is his gloves and boots where she discovers his gloves had frozen to the hilt of the Dark Sabre and his grip and frozen shut. Spook pulls his glove off and manages to prise the leather off the hilt, wondering if it would have been such a bad thing if this cursed bit of Mandalorian history sunk to the bottom of the lake. Spook makes the decision to leave him in his flight suit, instead bundling him up in every blanket she had on hand.

Spook begins pulling her own armour off as the exhaustion begins to set in, wishing they had placed dry clothes in the box and makes a mental note to do so once she gets out of here. The warmth from the fire is slowly filling the room but the heat is struggling against the extreme cold from outside. Spook shoves more dried dung on the fire and begins pulling off her own armour, dropping it with less care beside his. Dropping the last piece of armour in the pile she turns to look at him in concern, reaching up to feel his pulse. Its there, weak but steady. Spook’s gaze travels up to his face chewing her lip apprehensively.

When Spook and her father moved to Vandor, they waited until summer to practice falling through the ice and her father teaching her to pull him out as well as herself. Afterwards they came in here to recover, Spook sitting between her father’s legs with his massive arms wrapped around her and his chin resting on the top of her head, as they warmed each other off each other’s body heat. Spook knows body heat is the best way to stave off hypothermia but this admittedly attractive stranger is not her father.

Spook struggles to straighten her frozen fingers, tucking them under her armpits and rubbing her hands rapidly against her ribcage to warm herself. He’s completely out to it and the chances of him coming around at least for a few hours so she can sleep and they can dry off are minimal, but it’s not that. Aside from her father, Spook has never been this close to a male, let alone another Mandalorian. Part of her chastises her that they could both die of hypothermia if she doesn’t get on with it but it’s weird and she’s not sure what to think. Eventually the cold wins and she cautiously wriggles closer to him, gently finding his arm under the blankets and making a nook that she wriggles into. They’re both soaking wet and cold under the blanket and he startles her by slurring almost drunkenly. Spook heaves an uneasy sigh and wriggles closer, settling her bent leg over his thigh and draping and arm across his rib cage. Burrowing as deep as she can into the crook of his arm, she releases a deep, uncomfortable sigh praying he doesn’t come to while she’s like this.

That may just take more explaining that she’s capable of right now.

****

The blizzard last for nearly three days and he didn’t gain consciousness until the end of the second day. After twelve hours of drying by the fire Spook finally got the communicator to work, her father more than grateful to hear her voice. The blizzard had lowered visibility to a white blur on the cameras and the last he saw was her fighting the stranger out on the ice. Spook fills him in on what happened, assuring her father multiple times that she’s ok. He thankfully doesn’t ask how they’re keeping warm. Apparently Grogu is doing fine, just eating him out of house and home. Spook signs off and crawls back under the blankets beside the stranger, where she’s found herself getting surprisingly comfortable, even catching a couple of hours of sleep.

Spook decides eventually that he’s not the worst human face she’s seen around and judging by the lines around his eyes, she estimates he’s at least a few years older than her. She feels bad she had to rip his helmet off but she had no choice. She wasn’t going to let him drown in his helmet. She’s also amazed that he clearly couldn’t swim, at all. Her father taught her to swim just after she could walk, they were hiding out on some watery planet when he took her down to the water’s edge and began to show her the basics. When she got her first set of armour, he threw her overboard on Trask to make sure she could swim just as well in armour. She didn’t appreciate that particular lesson even if he thought it was pretty funny.

It’s evident by the second afternoon that consciousness is crawling back to him slowly. Spook looks around as his head weakly flops from side to side in the cocoon of blankets as Spook reaches for her helmet and drops it on. She huddles deeper into the blankets; glad he’s coming around as there’s only another day or two left in fuel. The blizzard outside is finally slowing down and they’re almost out of kod’yak jerky and protein bars. At least if he’s conscious and hopefully strong enough she can help him up the mountain to their hideout.

“Where’s my helmet?” he slurs suddenly beside her, struggling under the mountain of blankets.

Spook doesn’t look back but leans across and picks up his helmet and hands it to him. She gives him a few moments to get it on before looking back at him. His head tilts up, like he’s bringing her into focus. “I’m afraid we both had to violate our creed. You weren’t breathing when I pulled you out of the water,” Spook replies flatly.

His head flops slightly off to the side, breathing heavily as if even talking was exerting. He’s silent for a while longer, perhaps flitting between consciousness. Spook turns back to the fire, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself. Eventually he speaks again. “Why did you save me?”

“I wasn’t letting a fellow Mandalorian drown.”

“You shot at me.”

“That was a warning shot. If wanted to kill you I would have sniper-ed you from the gunner position halfway up the mountain where I first spotted you.”

“They didn’t feel like warning shots,” he says almost sulkily.

“And you shot a hole in my cape,” her head snaps around to look at him.

They lapse into silence again, broken only by the wind buffeting outside and the fire crackling a few feet away. He shuffles under the blankets, rolling painfully onto his side with a muffled groan. It takes him a few moments to get comfortable, not before kneeing Spook in the back and mumbling an apology. Spook shuffles closer to his head, greedily admiring the way the fire light flickers off the beskar helmet. Her armour has a high percentage of beskar, painted black like her father’s but like most armour produced in the late days of the Empire had at least ten percent alusteel in as an alloy. Somehow though this greedy bastard has managed to score a solid set as well as a spear and the Dark Sabre.

“Why do you have the Dark Sabre?” Spook says suddenly.

“Dang farrik! Its must be at the bottom of the lake.”

Spook leans across and pulls the Dark Sabre out from under the pile of armour and hands it to him. “Your hand froze around the hilt. Believe me, I know enough about that thing that I would have let it sink to the bottom of the lake. Best place it belongs.”

He accepts it off her, clearly relieved by the way he tucks it beside his head. “It’s not mine to lose.”

Spook stares into the fire for a moment then looks back at him. “Did you win it in battle?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s yours.”

“I’m not the rightful ruler of Mandalore.”

“But you have the Dark Sabre, that makes you the Manda’lor.”

“I’m not a native Mandalorian.”

Spook is still staring at him. “That’s… no… Whoever wins the Dark Sabre in battle becomes the Manda’lor. And you’re a Mandalorian. What planet you’re born on doesn’t come into it. You swore the creed right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re a Mandalorian who’s now the Manda’lor of the Mandalorian planet of Mandalore!”

They both stare at each other for a long moment, Spook aware that the sentence made absolutely no sense. She holds up a gloved hand to recollect her thoughts. “That made no sense but you know what I mean.”

“You have to be born on Mandalore to be able to sit on the throne,” the stranger replies promptly.

“Who told you that?”

“Bo Katan Kryze, the rightful heir of Mandalore,” he responds firmly.

Spook looks away. “Oh jeez... Listen mate, first of all she’s wrong and secondly why you working for her?”

“She came to my aid, which is when I came into possession of the Dark Sabre and so I vowed to look after it until we retake Mandalore then I would bestow it on her as the rightful heir because I’m not a native Mandalorian so therefore can’t legally rule,” he replies.

Something about what he said sounds vaguely familiar but Spook pushes it away, instead amazed that Bo Katan has pulled a swifty on this stranger who by rights should be the ruler of Mandalore. “I dunno what covert you was raised in but did they seriously not teach you about the Dark Sabre? Or to swim while we’re at it?”

“I didn’t know what it was until I was holding it.”

That takes a few moments of processing as she looks at him and then back at the fire. “You better come meet my Dad… he knows more about this stuff than I do and he can set you straight.”

“You live with you Dad?” he says softly after a long pause.

Spook nods. “I was a baby when Duchess Satine was killed and Dad only just escaped off world with me. We‘ve spent most of my life on the run but settled here after Endor.”

“To guard the coaxium?”

“Yes. Hence the warning shots.” 

“I don’t want it for my ship, we have an Imperial Light Cruiser to retake Mandalore with.”

“I wasn’t going to give it to you before and I certainly won’t now I know you’re in cahoots with that ranga bitch,” Spook returns, her voice laced with venom.

He watches her for a few moments as her head turns back to the flames. “Why not?”

“Because Bo Katan is the reason us Mandalorians are scattered halfway across the galaxy. The thought that the person who’s responsible for this, wants us to all hold hands and sing Mandalorian drinking songs on that wasteland is laughable. The Empire made sure that planet was uninhabitable and trust me I’ve seen Jakku!” Spook spat furiously.

“The Empire-“ he begins.

“The Empire didn’t have a foothold on Mandalore until Bo Katan and her tribe of domestic terrorists got together on Concordia with a Sith, Darth Maul no less and tried to overthrow her sister. Then low and behold the Sith had no intentions on playing second fiddle to her and took the throne of Mandalore, killing the puppet prime minister they installed, taking the Dark Sabre and making himself the Manda’lor. On top of that, she is responsible for the death of her own sister! Not the Jedi, not the Sith, not anyone else. And then when Darth Maul lost his grip on the planet, the Empire made sure no one else could control the planet. Bo Katan should be dead for what she did, the fact my father hasn’t put a blaster bolt between her eyes is only because he hasn’t got close enough!”

Spook’s voice rings out in the narrow cavern as she turns back to fire furiously. The stranger watches her silently as she slowly calms down. “She had dealings with a Sith?” he asks eventually, trying not to sound horrified but failing.

She nods. “Yes.”

It takes him even longer to answer and when he does his voice sounds hollow. “They’re like the Jedi right?”

Spook resists the urge to turn around and hit him over the head with something. “Yes. Sith are like Jedi, just evil.”

“I’ve only ever met a Jedi once,” he offers.

“I’m happy for you.”

She had plenty of opinions when she heard from Cara Dune that Bo Katan was trying to retake Mandalore but mostly kept them to herself. Cara wasn’t a Mandalorian, its none of an _aruetii’s_ business what happens on their home world. But this stranger had the Dark Sabre and was clearly being manipulated by Bo Katan who would likely stab him in the back with the weapon in question the second they gained control of the planet. Given his lack of knowledge on the Sith and the Dark Sabre she decides he must have been raised in one of those ultra-conservative coverts.

Or he’s dumb as a box of rocks… also a possibility.

“I’m afraid we’re low on supplies, I have some protein bars you can have but we will have to go up the mountain tomorrow to our hideout. Do you think you can manage that?” Spook asks, rummaging in the bag for said protein bars.

He nods slightly as Spook passes him the last few protein bars and turns her back so he can eat. She hears him ripping open the packaging and hugs her knees closer to her chest. The wind outside is dropping but she’s fairly certain there will be a whole heap of snow against the door of the cavern. Her mind is ticking over with thoughts of Mandalore and this stranger. The likelihood of his surviving to even get on the planet is slim and she wonders if she can convince him to throw the Dark Sabre to the bottom of the lake. That’s where it belongs. Mandalore is sparsely inhabited these days, primarily by idiotic Mandalorians who struggle to survive purely for clout to say they live on their home world. Nothing grows, it’s all a desert, Keldable was wiped off the face of the planet and the current capital which is under a dome is run by crime lords. Rumor has it a Sith is running the show but no one Spook knows has been close enough to the planet in years to find out. The thought of it being recolonised by Mandalorians is a joke.

The stranger finishes eating and Spook decides to settle down for the night, this time on the opposite side of the fire. Rolling into a ball and wrapping the blanket tightly around her, Spook watches him sleep across the glowing embers of the fire. He’s a quiet spoken mystery- an excellent warrior but somehow oblivious on the galaxy and its innerworkings. How one manages to be his age, presumably older than her and miss out on the Sith, the Jedi, the Dark Sabre and the entire history of Mandalore is a mystery. Spook closes her eyes and settles in for the night, glad at least that he’s going to pull through.

***

Spook lifts his arm off her shoulder that he had been leaning on as she hammers on the heavy blast door with her fist. The stranger leans heavily against the door frame, exhausted from their trip up the mountain and clearly not doing so great. He managed to get most of his armour on himself, but she had to clip the fiddly buckles that attach the pauldrons to the breastplate for him. Spook can hear her father shuffling on the other side of the door and moments later the heavy steel door creaks open. Spook grabs his arm and manoeuvres him through the door but he trips on the raised lip and lands with a clatter on the stone floor at her father’s feet. He rolls over with a dull groan as Spook steps over his prone body through the doorway.

Lew Fen stares down unimpressed from an expressionless black helmet. “Took you long enough to bring home a suitor Spook.”

“What? No!” Spook gasps in embarrassment. 

Laughing Lew pulls the door shut and crouches down stiffly at the stranger’s head. “What name will my grandchildren be taking, stranger?”

Three things happen at once; Spook hurls a Mando’a insult at her father, the stranger mumbles ‘Din Djarin’ and across the room, Grogu whose sat in mound of blankets suddenly coos loudly. The effect on the stranger is instantaneous, almost like waking him from the dead. He rolls over, propping himself up on one elbow and finds Grogu across the room. Struggling, he manages to find his feet and stumble across the room to where Grogu is looking very comfortable on the couch in a nest of blankets. Spook and her father stare silently as Din drops in a heap beside the couch, Grogu struggling to get free before wrapping both arms around Din’s helmet. Din’s arms wrap around Grogu, engulfing him to the point that only the top of his head and ears are visible.

“Wait that’s…” Lew looks at his daughter.

“He’s not green?” the sentence tumbles out of her mouth.

Spook and her father watch the reunion in silence until eventually he looks around. “Why do you have my son?”

“Luke Skywalker sent me to bring him back to you,” Spook stares. “Wait _you’re_ Din Djarin?”

“You didn’t ask him for his name did you?” Lew looks at his daughter who ignores the question.

“Is something wrong?” Din sounds concerned, looking down at Grogu.

“No, he’s finished his Jedi training. Luke couldn’t get a hold of you,” Spook replies, stepping across the room. Lew follows pulling a chair across and sitting in front of Din as Spook settles beside them on the couch.

“Already?” he holds Grogu in front of his visor, one hand examining his cute, pint-sized Jedi robes. Spook wonders for the first time where Luke gets his outfits from as he always looks pretty slick and Grogu’s robes have the same high-quality craftsmanship. She then registers they’re clean which means her Dad took it upon himself to clean the little Jedi’s robes. Spook shrugs in response, like she’s supposed to know if Grogu passed Jedi school or not.

“I thought I’d never see you again buddy,” Din murmurs to his son who’s cooing away. Spook wonders what Grogu is saying, he chattered away like that when they met Cara Dune and if it’s an actual language or is baby talk of Galactic Basic.

“Alright I’m going to need some directions,” Lew breaks in after a few moments of watching Din with his son. “This is your son?”

“He’s a foundling by creed,” Din mumbles in response.

Father and daughter look at one another, Spook cursing herself for not factoring in that Grogu could be a foundling. What an obvious in hindsight possibility. “But you’re not helping Bo Katan retake Mandalore are you son?” Lew rumbles, his voice edged in a threat.

Din looks around slowly. “I didn’t know she had dealing with the Sith.”

“He also thought that only a native Mandalorian can sit on the throne of Mandalore,” Spook throws in. “And he sinks like a stone.”

“I don’t follow?” Lew looks at his daughter.

“He has the Dark Sabre,” Spook replies when Din dosnt answer.

“The what??”

Din looks around and reaches painfully behind him to unclip the blade before offering it to Lew. The old man starts to reach out for it, hesitates and then curiosity gets the better of him before accepting it. Spook watches her father turn it over in his hands in silent awe, likely never thinking he would get to hold the ancestral weapon of his people. After a few moments he hands it back to Din who places it on the couch beside Grogu.

Eventually Lew speaks. “Right… that explains why Bo Katan is working with you. I did wonder.”

Din barely seems to register the comment, too wrapped up in his son. “I just wanted Grogu back. I didn’t know what it was until I was holding it.”

“Well, I did offer to throw it back in the lake,” Spook shrugs.

“Tarin Fen!” her father exclaims indignantly. “That’s the ancient weapon of the Mandalorians!”

“It’s got bad ju-ju!” she retorts.

“I’ll give you bad ju-ju,” her father points at her but she can tell he’s kidding. He looks back at Din and seems to be weighing his words up. “I know not all coverts have been honest with their foundlings, in attempt to boost numbers. They picked up kids from places like Nevarro, Jakku, the lower levels of Coruscant who were abandoned or orphans. Its why I never aligned myself with one after Mandalore fell even though it would have meant more protection in the short term and would have meant friends for Spook.”

“They taught us the songs… but asking questions was frowned on,” Din answers after a pause.

“It’s quick and easy to blame the Empire, and not entirely incorrect, but the truth is much messier and requires acknowledging the failings of our own people. We are a proud race of warriors but pride always comes at a cost and our people will pay the debt for centuries, if not forever,” Lew responds with a sad shrug. “And Bo Katan is right at the centre of it. Not to tell you what to do mate, but you really need to think twice about working with her.”

“She helped me get Grogu back.”

“Who from?” Lew asks.

“Moff Gideon,” Din answers. “She risked her life.” He adds after a moment, like he’s trying to justify her involvement.

“Did Moff Gideon have the Dark Sabre?” Lew asks to which Din nods. Spook chews the inside of her lip, looking down at her gloved hands, understanding immediately where her father’s line of questions are going.

“She only did it for the Dark Sabre. I can guarantee it. You and your son wouldn’t have even entered the equation,” Lew says gently.

Din Djarin doesn’t answer, instead cradling his son under his chin who has started to doze, safely tucked under his father’s chin. Spook looks at her Dad who finally meets her gaze. “Have you cooked anything?”

“Yeah… there’s some kod’yak stew that can be warmed up. This grub ate before you came,” he murmurs, nodding in Grogu’s direction.

Spook pushes herself off the couch and crosses the room to the kitchen leaving the two men by the couch. As promised, there’s a large container of stew in the cold storage, the last of their premade food which means Spook will have to hunt some more when the weather clears. She reminds herself that she needs to send a holo to Luke, tell him he delivered Grogu safely to his Dad even though Luke probably knows already. The force is weird like that. Spook stokes the fire up and adds more fuel before suspending the large cooking pot over the flames and dropping the nearly frozen lump of stew into it. She can just hear her father’s voice above the flames as he talks softly to Din who’s finally moved up onto the couch.

Leaving the frozen mass to sort itself out, Spook crosses the room to where her father’s armour hangs, minus the helmet and begins to strip out of hers draping the cloak over the back of the chair. Piece by piece in a process she has done since she was fourteen, she removes each piece, checks for damage and hangs it on the frame beside her father’s. She wants to pull her helmet off, rub her face and untangle her hair but it will have to wait. Instead, she pulls her boots off and finds a smelly but dry pair of socks discarded on the floor nearby which she pulls on, relishing the softness against her toes.

“Spook,” her father calls across the room. “Bring the whip please.”

Spook unclips the whip from the belt she had hung around the frame her armour sits on and crosses the room handing the Fen family weapon to her father. He accepts it and with a fluid roll of his wrist unfurls it against the stone floor, igniting it. The pure white lash glows white, humming with energy as Din stares at it and Grogu wakes slightly with a muffled gurgle.

“Luke Skywalker helped me build this not long after he made his green sabre. Apparently, these weapons were used in the Old Republic alongside lightsabres and we used the instructions from old Jedi Manuscripts. I picked up a clean crystal in a market in some backwater planet which we dropped into the hilt. Kybre crystals start off white but if you’re force sensitive, they change colour to match your… I dunno… ju-ju however that works. Neither Spook or I are force sensitive so its stayed white. The whip was mine and now its Spook’s,” her father says proudly, turning it off and handing it back to Spook.

“You didn’t use that out there,” Din turns his head slightly to look at her.

Spook shrugs. “I told you. Warning shots.”

Din seems impressed or worried, it’s hard to know. Mandalorians get pretty good at reading one another despite the helmets but it takes a bit with strangers to figure out the non-verbal cues. He shuffles slightly and the food on the fire crackles, Spook leaving them to push the rapidly defrosting mass around the pot with a long wooden spoon when she hears the visitor ask how they kill Sith. Spook grins to herself.

Lew stretches himself out in the chair, clearly settling in to tell the story. “The first one was an accident. I had just left Mandalore, Duchess Satine was dead, Mandalore was ripping itself to shreds and Bo Katan had sent assassins to kill me and they all went back empty handed or not at all. Spook was about three or four and we were hiding out on a planet in Hutt Space that’s not very populated. I kept mostly to myself, head down bum up to protect me and this one but snuck into town to get supplies for us early one morning when the former mayor pulled me aside. Said he had a job. Their town was being ruled by a shadowy figure who hid up in the old tower but had minions who oppressed the people, took most of their supplies, forced labour… the usual. He never said the word Sith, I don’t know if he didn’t know what that was, or was scared I would bail. This is height of the Empire mind you, so the Sith were everywhere but not all of them worked directly for the Empire. Plenty just knocked about on planets like this one using their abilities to enslave people and live it up.”

“Left Spook with the nurse droid in the system of caves I was hiding in and the goons were easy enough. Got to the top of the tower and crapped myself,” Lew says with a slight laugh. “I knew what a Sith was, I’ve seen Darth Maul up close and got the same heebies walking into that room. And I just did what we do best, dig your heels in and fight so you can limp back to your family. The mayor found me a couple of weeks later when I had patched myself up and gave me the lightsabre as a trophy. I had shot it out of his hand and broke the hilt. Never seen the inside of a lightsabre so pulled it apart out of curiosity and when I found the crystal that’s when I got the bright idea to wear it.”

Lew tilts his head to one side to reveal a series of red marks along the base of his helmet between his ear and the vent on the back of his neck. “That’s how many Sith I have sent to other side.”

“That’s impressive,” Din breathes in total admiration.

“Word of what I did must have spread back to Bo Katan because I never saw another assassin from her after that. A few from the Empire, but I became a bit of a ghost story, like Luke Skywalker. Plenty of people didn’t buy the story a Mando could take on a Sith which suited me just fine. Other Mando’s wanted to learn my trade but I never stayed still long enough to take on an apprentice and truth be told I already had the best student anyways,” Lew looks at Spook who looks up from the fire. Din’s gaze follows her father’s and lingers as Lew turns his head back towards him.

“I met your friend Luke after we both went after the same Sith when Spook was about eleven. I was midway through taking down some unsavoury guild members working for the Empire, in a bit of strife if I’m honest, when out of nowhere comes this figure in a flowy black robe. I knew what the Jedi were but until I saw the green lightsabre, I had no idea who or what he was. Mowed his way through them like it was nothing. Dang farrik I wish I was force sensitive some days,” the old man shakes his head.

“He took down a platoon of Dark Troopers on Moff Gideon’s cruiser with ease,” Din adds in agreement.

“Sounds about right. We’ve worked together ever since but haven’t heard anything from him since Endor, I knew he was busy training the next generation of Jedi and I was busy being semi-retired, which is why I was so shocked to get a holo from him,” Lew finishes.

“I understand now why he trusted you,” Din muses after a few moments.

“Luke probably got Déjà vu seeing you with that little dude,” Spook says motioning at Grogu. “A Mandalorian with a kid on his hip isn’t as rare as maybe you thought it was.”

Lew shrugs. “Family and creed are the cornerstones of our race, we’re warriors, fighters, mercs and bounty hunters but we’re also fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters first. And while I would like to go to the beyond on my home world, it’s not realistic. Mandalore is a wasteland and I doubt Concordia is any better.”

“What about the other planets?” Spook asks as the stew finally begins to bubble.

Lew heaves a sigh, thinking. “Nog and Akaan were never habitable either too hot or airless. I believe Mandilla faced the same fate as Mandalore, when the Empire couldn’t control it, they nuked it from orbit. I don’t know anyone whose been within twenty clicks of the place in… ooh… at least fifteen years if not longer. Boongal and Shukut are both gas giants though their many moons might be habitable but weren’t pre-Empire as far as I know, so maybe they are now. Werda is not too different to Hoth or Vandor, bloody cold and did have Mandalorian coverts on it once, but they have possibly been destroyed. If there are any Mandalorians left in the system Tracyn and Werda are your best bets.”

“Grubs up,” Spook answers lifting the pot over to the middle of the room. She rummages around the kitchen for bowls and cutlery as her father hauls himself out of the chair and ambles across. Spook is placing the bowls on the table when she notices Din, carefully settling the still sleeping Grogu on the couch before crossing the room awkwardly like he’s still in some pain. He lands heavily in the nearest chair like the ten paces across the room were like running a marathon for him.

Spook dishes out food for the two men and herself before sitting down and turning her back on them, removing her helmet. Din watches them sit with his back to him before hesitantly pulling his helmet off and setting it on the table. His gaze lingers on the back of Spook’s head for a moment- taking in the messy, waist length braid that’s somewhere between red and brown before turning to face the other way. Spook glances sideways at her father through her first mouthful and he’s smirking at her. Spook ignores him, not realising how hungry she was and relishing the sensation of hot food in her stomach. 

“Have as much as you want,” Spook says absently over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” Din manages between mouthfuls.

The trio eat in silence aside from the scraping of cutlery, the crackle of the fire in the middle of the room and muffled wind rushing up the tunnel. Spook eats steadily, her mind ticking over thinking of the events of the last few days. It’s fairly evident that the future ruler of Mandalore has little clue about the past history of the planet, Bo Katan, the Dark Sabre of any of it. How he’s avoided major issues up to this point is a mystery but it’s only a matter of time before he got himself into major problems, likely with Bo Katan.

As she continues to eat, Spook begins to wonder if Bo Katan knew they settled here and perhaps hoped they would bump Din Djarin off for her. It would be on brand for Bo Kata, Spook decides as clearly Din Djarin is a decent warrior when he isn’t scrambling about on a frozen lake and Bo Katan has decided not to tackle him head on. Sending him into the lair of the Sith Hunter could have possibly worked had he not fallen through the ice. In saying that, Spook has never killed on of her own and doesn’t plan to ever unless provoked beyond reason.

Spook reaches down and drops her helmet on her head and after a glance over her shoulder notes Din has done the same, sat hunched over staring at the floor. Spook leans across the table for his bowl and holds out her hand for her father’s. Lew passes his bowl across and drops his own helmet on before walking around the table and looking down at the visitor.

“How about you get some rest friend? I’ll get you set up in the spare room with your kid,” Lew offers gently.

Din looks up and nods, mumbling his thanks before following her father across the room. Spook watches him through the corner of her visor as he gently gathers Grogu into his arms before disappearing down the hallway. Turning her attention back to the dishes, Spook sighs, feeling bad for the visitor who has clearly had the rug pulled out from under him. A bit later her father joins her as she putting away the last of the stew, leaning heavily on the counter.

“He’s still in a state from going for a dip but I think that’s the least of his worries,” her father muses softly.

Spook nods. “I get why you kept me away from the coverts now. He legit knows nothing about anything. They must have taught him to fight, slapped a helmet on him and gone ‘see ya sunshine.”

Her father’s helmeted head turns toward her. “That and that boy you had the hots for when you was about fourteen.”

Spook laughs slightly. “I was a kid.”

“You said you wanted to marry him,”” her father teased.

“Ripping me off the planet before nightfall and refusing to go back for six years was a bit much don’t you think?” Spook replies laughing.

“Definitely not,” her father says before lapsing into silence for a while. “You’re not wrong though. A lot of the coverts churned out as many Mandos as they could and some did ok like this guy but plenty didn’t make eighteen months on the job. And I know some who did a runner as soon as they were sent out, sold their armour and vanished. I met one of Felucia once, pretending to be a farmer. You can’t hate on them for it either, it’s not their fault.”

Spook dries the dishes and stacks them away under the sink. “Do you think Bo Katan sent him here on purpose? Not for the coaxium but…” she trails off pointedly to which her father nods, clearly getting the intent.

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Lew shrugs. “But she could just as easily be after the coaxium if they have a cruiser to run.”

“I nearly went to Tatooine, to look for the Armourer from Nevarro. It seems weird that I turn up here and five minutes later so does he,” Spook drapes the dishcloth on its hook and leans on the counter beside her father.

“That’s the force my young padawan,” her father says mysteriously.

Spook laughs. “Be serious.”

They’re silent for awhile longer before her father drops a hand on her shoulder. “I’m off to bed kiddo. Make sure there’s enough wood on the fire before you turn in.”

Spook nods silently watching him amble across the room before turning back to the sink. She takes a few moments to wipe it down before throwing a few more logs on the fire, turning the lights out and heading into her own room that’s situated between her father’s and the guest’s room. In the years they have been here they have entertained a few guests, mostly Mandalorians who come looking for the old record keeper from Mandalore turned Sith Hunter. Mostly the room remains empty but ready to go with fresh sheets, warm woollen blankets and towels- the mark of Mandalorian hospitality.

Spook pulls the door closed and gladly pulls off her helmet, flopping down on the edge of her bed. Her room is the smallest, a former store room of sorts which didn’t have any installed lights so Spook has a small lamp that glows orange against the narrow walls. Feeling the exhaustion setting in, Spook reaches for the hair brush eager to detangle her messy plait, knocking the jar of kybre crystals to the floor. It doesn’t break but the stones rattle against the glass, glowing almost angrily as she picks it up and holds it up to the light. She only has two in hers; her father keeps a jar of eleven red crystals by his bedside, trophies of his many victories. Spook places the jar down and begins to run her fingers through her waist length plait, slowly loosening it. She’s begun to brush her hair out when she hears noise on the opposite wall, a low humming noise. Getting up, she quietly crosses the room placing her ear against the cold metal wall.

It takes her a few moments to realise its Din quietly singing a Mandalorian lullaby, one her father used to sing to her many moons ago. Spook imagines Din in the darkness, cradling Grogu as he softly sings to him and feels her heartstrings get tugged. Stepping away from the wall with a smile, Spook crosses he room and crawls into bed deciding that this is one of the more enjoyable jobs she’s accomplished.

***

It takes Din almost a week to recover and drop his guard. While Spook runs most jobs solitary these days, she always comes home to her Dad but as she comes to realise before Grogu, Din had no one. With a bit of prising, they discover his parents were killed during a separatist droid attack when he was young and he swore the creed as a teenager. From leaving the covert in his late teens until a few years ago when Grogu came into his life, he had no one, no real attachments, lovers or friends even. It does Spook’s head in a little, trying to imagine how empty and miserable that life must be and she can tell her Dad is going soft very quickly for their visitor and his small green son.

Lew Fen spends hours talking Din through the history of the Mandalorians, the rise of the Empire, the Civil Wars, Death Watch and everything in between. On the fourth day, Spook left the hideout just after dawn to hunt down some Kod’yak and when she returned successful several hours later it looked like they barely moved off the couch, the big book of records that her father carefully guarded still spread out in front of them. Spook drags the carcass through the door as the two men look up before Din gets up and stiffly hurries over to close the door behind her. 

“I see you two have been busy,” Spook says in amusement dropping her cape on the floor, Grogu bundled up between where the men were sat on the couch.

“I added Din and his son to the foundling record,” Lew says with pride.

Spook looks between them, one hand resting on her hip. “You added Grogu?”

“Yes?” Lew closes the book and is wrapping it back up again in its protective fur cover.

“He’s a Jedi,” Spook motions.

“So was Tarre Vizsla,” Lew replies. “And he is Din Djarin’s son by creed.”

“You don’t need to ask someone about that?” Spook says questioningly. “Jedi and Mando’s are historically not friends.”

“That’s the past and this is now. Luke Skywalker is more of an ally to us than most Mandalorians I know. As the last living record keeper, I think I have a right to decide whose name is recorded,” Lew stands stiffly, sounding vaguely annoyed.

“Ahsoka Tano helped me contact Luke Skywalker,” Din throws in hesitantly.

“I’m not questioning it,” Spook finally looks at Din. “It’s just adding a Jedi to the book of the Mandalorians is unusual and possibly controversial.”

“I’m calling it,” Lew says with a dramatic gesture.

Spook shrugs and pulls the carcass across the room to their cold storage. Din follows her, holding the door open as she drags it into the smaller room and hangs it from the hook in the ceiling. She’s aware he’s watching her through doorway and she senses he wants to say something as she begins to skin the carcass, the snow blowing in from the vent in the ceiling and settling on her helmet and shoulders. He takes so long to finally speak up Spook has completely skinned the carcass and has to prompt him.

“Something you want to say?”

“In a few days’ time I am going to Werda and Tracyn,” he begins hesitantly. “If there are Mandalorians who can help my cause then that’s the best place to start.”

“My cause. I see the history lesson meant nothing,” Spook mutters slitting the carcass from groin down to its throat in one fluid swipe.

“I don’t follow?”

Spook looks over her shoulder at him. “Bo Katan. Finding out her history from my Dad means nothing and you still want to work for her.”

“I don’t trust her but she’s right about one thing- Mandalorians are stronger together. We may not be able to recolonize Mandalore but we need to stop hiding and band together. Maybe a planet in the Mandalorian system can support us,” Din replies evenly.

“Most of the Mandalorians spread through the galaxy are our generation, they have never known a home world. Asking them to uproot their coverts or solitary lives to a new planet… I cant see it working.”

“Safety in numbers, only a fool would deny the logic in that,” Din replies just as quickly.

Spook is silent for a few moments, cutting through the kod’yak’s stomach muscles which releases the organs onto the ground in a messy pile around her boots. Steam from the carcass rises like steam into the frigid air. Shoving the organs away with her boot, Spook pauses to sharpen her knife again before looking at him. “You can’t separate the two. It’s still her plan and she will stab you in the back the second she’s got what she wants, which is Mandalorians to rule over.”

“That’s why I am asking you to come with me.”

Spook pauses mid swipe then drags the blade back along the whetstone with a trail of sparks. “I’m not a babysitter.”

“You father has agreed to watch Grogu.”

Spook shoves past him back into the living room where her father is chatting to Grogu in babytalk. “You agreed to this?” Spook yells pointing the bloodied knife at Din.

Her father pauses, like he didn’t expect to get sprung making ridiculous noises at Grogu. “Yes, I did because Bo Katan will never unite the Mandalorians, but Din here might.”

“It’s Bo Katan’s plan!” she retorts in exasperation.

“I’m not doing this for Bo Katan,” Din tries to interject but is mostly ignored.

“Sometimes even your enemies have good ideas,” Lew shrugs.

Spook takes a few steps forward, unable to believe what she’s hearing. “It’s an impossible job and at the end of it there’s every chance we could both get shanked after doing all the heavy lifting and Bo Katan will sweep in and take the credit herself.”

“Not if you’re there she won’t,” her father replied.

“We don’t even know what’s on Werda and Tracyn! They could be totally uninhabited or crawling with the Empire,” Spook continues.

“Tracyn is the better bet than Werda which is pretty damn cold,” her father replies. “I would recommend you start there. If there are Mandos there, they will know what’s going on in Sundari.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Spook demands in exasperation.

“Long ago, thirty-two years ago to be precise,” her father replies tauntingly.

“Be serious!” Spook snaps.

Lew crosses to room towards her, head tilted affectionately. “I am being serious. Bo Katan will never unite our people but he is the rightful heir and our best chance. And you make up for what he lacks, namely brains.”

Over her shoulder Din looks up, like he’s mildly offended. “You actually want me to go?” Spook stakes hardly believing what she’s hearing.

In his arms, Grogu coos at them as her father gently places his hand on her shoulder. “Our people have hidden for too long kiddo and its time we stopped doing that. I will still put a blaster bolt between Bo Katan’s eyes if given half a chance but Din here is the rightful ruler of Mandalore, not her. If anyone is going to get our people anywhere near where they used to be its him. And you. And this grub.”

Spook sighed and reached up to stroke Grogu’s ears who gurgled happily. Din cautiously crosses the room and joins them, watching as Spook silently thinks about her father’s words. They have a point.

“Whose ship we taking?” Spook mumbles eventually.

****

Spook drops into the seat against the back wall of the cockpit ignoring the empty co-pilot’s seat to Din’s right. Din turns his head slightly to look at her in the corner of his visor before silently turning back to the dash, stabbing a few buttons. They’re still in hyperspace, the world outside them blurring in white against black streaks but the countdown clock on the dash indicates they are not far from Tracyn. It hasn’t taken them long to cross the galaxy in hyper but it has been spent mostly in silence. Without her father chattering away about Mandalorian history or Grogu making all manner of adorable noises, the pair mostly skirt around each other on the ship in awkward silence.

The ship pops out of hyperdrive in view of the planet. Din reaches up and powers down the systems, slowing for descent. It’s an older ship, pre-empire that had been used as a troop carrier by the Empire but has been stripped and gutted of any Empire remnants and fitted with heavier ion guns. It’s clear Din never intended to take on a second person, there’s only one sleeping pod not that Spook minds bringing her cot across from her ship. Most sleeping pods are much smaller than she would like and while Din seemed to have no problems cramming himself into his, Spook preferred her cot that she anchored to the floor a few meters away.

He had woken first, she watched him through her visor as she pretended to sleep. He crawls out of his sleeping pod, stretching and groaning softly like an old man before pausing to watch her pretend to sleep. He then pads into the galley, silently in his thick woollen socks and returns a few minutes later placing a cup of coffee beside her cot before returning to the galley to make breakfast. Spook waits for the door to close before getting up silently, sitting wrapped in a blanket sipping the scalding hot coffee, black with no sweetener. She doesn’t remember ever stating what her coffee preference is, he must have noticed it and remembered.

Below them Tracyn hangs in space, a red rock against the blackness of space ridged in high mountains that were once volcanoes. The ship drops into the atmosphere bringing the jagged peaks into closer view. It all looks pretty desolate and uninhabited. Spook begins to feel hopeful- with any luck both planets will be empty, they won’t bother with Mandalore, he’ll drop her back on Vandor and she can go back to bounty hunting-

“There,” he points into the distance. At the foot of a mountain are a collecting of domed, stone roofs just visible above the red dirt.

Spook represses a sigh. So much for that. Din wheels the ship around and begins his descent, red volcanic dirt blowing up in clouds around the ship. As it settles though it becomes apparent that these aren’t underground houses, they have been buried. Spook takes a step forward using the back of Din’s chair to balance against as he lands the ship with a shudder a couple of hundred meters from the nearest one. Red dirt is blown upwards from the ship’s engines, reducing the world to a red blur. Din turns his seat to leave before the dust settles, eager to be on the move but Spook hesitates watching the dust swirl around, feeling her nerves jangle.

He’s waiting at the rear door and leans over to stab the lowering mechanism with his index finger, as she slings her sniper rifle over her shoulder. “This place is giving me the heebies.”

He doesn’t answer and strides forwards with Spook half a step behind him as the ramp settles in the red dust. It’s evident almost instantly that this is an abandoned settlement, no one has been here for years, decades even. As they draw closer Spook realises the roofs are reminiscent of old Mandalorian drawings she has seen of settlements, domed with a lip around the rim and a hole at the centre. Some have caved in, sand pouring into the interiors.

Spook tilts her head to look up at the smooth sided mountain that soars over the abandoned settlement. “That’s a volcano if I’m not wrong.”

Din has stopped in front of a building, its doorway just visible above the dirt. “Clan Keslo? These were Mandalorians?” he struggles to read the Mando’a script etched into the stonework.

Spook kneels beside him to dust the dirt away with her hand. “Clan Kelso. Traditional Mandalorian houses are circular with domed roofs and either partially or totally underground.”

Din moves off slower, leaving Spook to ponder the name. They weren’t a big clan if memory served her right but Spook definitely remembered the name and they were formerly residents of Keldable. She could visualise the page their names were on in her head but couldn’t remember any more information. They must have come to Tracyn after the fall of Mandalore, choosing to stay in the system rather than be scattered across the galaxy like everyone else. This didn’t appear to be a covert, just a tiny settlement which Spook couldn’t understand as it would be risky being so exposed. Getting up she looks around and finds Din several meters away staring into one roof that had caved in. Spook steps around it, staring into the interior and understood why he seemed to be frozen on the spot.

Like most Mandalorian houses the domed roofs were over a courtyard, the rooms spanning off from the interior like spokes on a wheel. When it was built there would have been a pool of water below the hole in the ceiling funnelling the hot air onto the cool water to cool the house in a form of natural air conditioning. This roof had caved in or perhaps been blown away revealing the desperate final moments of three inhabitants, two adults and a child frozen in time their bodies encased in stone. They were clearly Mandalorians, though the child wasn’t wearing a helmet. Their bodies lay prone on the ground half submerged in the red dust, one reaching out with a frozen arm for the stairs and the child curled in the foetal position. Spook’s heart drummed against her chest plate; her breath caught in her throat as finally she understood what happened.

The volcano.

“Why didn’t they leave?” Din asks quietly, coming to the same conclusion she did.

“They had no choice,” Spook says softly. “After Mandalore fell, they must have chosen to stay in the system and this was their only option. Rather than be refugees like the rest of us, they would rather roll the dice on fate.”

“How do you know it was after Mandalore fell?” he asks finally looking at her.

“Because their names are in the register,” Spook replies hollowly turning to meet Din’s gaze.

They leave soon after, desperate to forget what they saw and the bodies trapped in stone forever. They find one other abandoned settlement but this looks like it was possibly abandoned by choice, the houses stripped of all possessions and left to gather dust. Perhaps after hearing what happened to the neighbours in the distance and decided the risk was too great. Perhaps they were taken captive by the Empire. It’s hard to know.

Din decides to stay on the surface of Tracyn for the night and Spook doesn’t disagree, absently building a fire a few meters from the hull of the ship. Din finds her a bit later, the sun having set and the galaxy twinkling above the shiny hull of his ship. He offers her a bowl of stew and crosses to the opposite side of the fire. Spook turns her back to the flames and pulls her helmet off, followed by her gloves before rubbing her face tiredly. All she can see are those bodies, frozen in terror, reaching their arms out for the door. How many other Mandalorians across the galaxy settled on risky planets like Tracyn and lost their lives because their home world was now too dangerous?

“We have to recolonise Mandalore,” Din says firmly across the fire.

“We don’t even know what’s in Sundari.”

“That’s why we’re going there tomorrow.”

Spook shovels a spoonful of stew in her mouth, watching the firelight flickering off the hull of the ship. It’s not that she disagrees, it’s just she doesn’t have energy right now to explain to him all the ways this could fail and they could end up dead. Seeing those bodies, that child who died in a volcano eruption because they had nowhere else to go and no means of escape was like a punch to the stomach. Knowing she would have to tell her father so he could wipe another family name out of the record was like being knocked to her knees. There were so many names underlined in black in that book, entire families and clans wiped out by civil war, the Empire, disease and disaster. The once proud Mandalorian race was now reduced to coverts and small families scattered through the galaxy.

“You haven’t given me twenty reasons it won’t work yet?” Din observes across the fire, his back to her but he turns his head slightly.

“I’m tired.”

There’s a pause broken by the crackle of the fire and the breeze shifting over the sands. “Me too.”

Stew finished; Spook shuffles forward a bit so she can lay on her back in the sand staring up at the wing of Din’s ship. She takes a deep breath and releases it as a sigh, feeling the joints in her back settle against her armour plates. In the cool air the metal skin of the ship creaks and groans, like the silent third member of this travelling party.

“Tell me about Sundari,” Din prompts from across the fire.

“It’s a domed city,” Spook begins. “After the planet became more and more hostile, they were forced to build in a biosphere. Before it fell it was beautiful, according to my Dad and had a park he would take me to as a baby that had a big monument in it. I was too young to remember. The city could be destroyed, crawling with the Empire, crime lords… who knows. I don’t even know how we’d get in without being spotted. Or even get close.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” Din answers.

“When we’re done here, what will you do?”

“See previous answer.”

“So back to Bo Katan and her leash?” Spook challenges, sitting up.

“Perhaps.”

Spook rolled her eyes in disgust as she rolled to her feet, snatching her helmet up and dropping it on her head. “Don’t act shocked if I put a blaster bolt in you then if you go back to her.”

Spook storms into the ship, her boots echoing on the metal floor. She has carelessly flung her bowl in the sink of the galley which has bounced out again when Din appears behind her. “Have you considered that maybe she’s changed?”

“Don’t be naive! She’s a power hungry, back stabbing, two faced ranga whose incapable of feeling anything but power lust!” Spook retorts furiously snatching her bowl up, throwing it and watching it bounce out again.

“And you and your fathers are saints I suppose?” Din retorts back.

“We aren’t saints but we don’t pretend to be something we’re not which is more I can say for Bo Katan, more than I can say for you!” Spook’s echoes through the ship as this time she flings the bowl and it stays in the sink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Din says dangerously, stepping closer his hand unconsciously settling on the handle of his blaster.

“Before you Grogu you was nothing more than a common Bounty Hunter, in it for the pay. Don’t act like you suddenly care, that Mandalore means a damn to you!”

“And it does to you? You don’t even remember it!” Din fires back.

“None of us do! Except for Bo Katan who burnt it to the ground!” Spook rages back.

Din has a finger raised, about to form a retort when a laser cannon shot exploded in the dirt less than a hundred meters from the back of the ship, followed by the unmistakable whine of a TIE fighter on the approach. Din and Spook startle, sprinting for the cockpit as more laser cannon’s hit the dirt around them as the tie fighter whirs overhead. Din launches himself into the captain’s chair and Spook jumps into the Co-pilot’s chair as he rapidly powers the engine up.

“A single TIE?” Spook questions as Din finally gets the ship in the air, the landing gear folding into the hull with a loud clunk.

Din throttles the ship up, the ion engines roaring as the blinking lights on the Tie-fighter can be seen doubling back towards them rapidly. Din only just manages to barrel roll out of the way, narrowly missing the ground as it opens fire again. Spook shrieks, nearly getting launched across the cockpit and just manages to hang on. The TIE manages another two dive pasts, narrowly missing them both times before doubling back at brake neck speed. It’s clear the TIE-fighter has the advantage in speed and manoeuvrability over Din’s ship that’s only just staying out harm’s way thanks to his flying skills.

“That’s not an ex-Imperial pilot,” Din says, hauling back on the joystick trying to get some height in the atmosphere before the TIE comes back.

“How can you tell?” Spook yells, fumbling for her seatbelt.

“Imps fly according to protocols, he’s too erratic,” he says before rolling the ship out of the way, but this time a shot from the TIE’s ion cannons makes contact with a loud bang, one of the ships engines flaming out. Din swears and grapples with the joystick to regain balance as the ship lists in the air.

“Do you want me to shoot and you fly?” Spook yells at him.

“I’m good!”

“You’ve shot back twice!”

“Fine you do better!” he yells.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Spook says with a grin stabbing the buttons to change the weapons over to the co-pilot.

The weapons system is newer than the ship, the updated version of her own. The TIE whizzes past again, one shot bouncing off the wing with a trail of sparks as Din levels the ship at departing TIE. Spook holds the guidance system steady, steadying her breaths. The world wallows into seconds that ooze past, Spook watching the weapons system try to find a lock on the departing TIE. All of a sudden it finds a lock, Spook slamming her thumb down on the button. The shot hits the TIE squarely which explodes brilliantly ahead, Din pulling the ship up high, the last engine whining to avoid the exploding debris that rain down onto the sand. Spook lets go of the guidance system as Din awkwardly circles the ship before landing it near the flaming debris scattered across the sand.

“Nice shot,” he mumbles.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Spook asks devilishly.

Din ignores her and pushes himself out of the Captain’s chair headed for the rear door. Spook finds him outside staring up at the winged engine, the onboard fire suppressant is putting the flames out but it’s clear the shot has done damage. A black goopy liquid is gushing down from a hole in the wing just back from the engine which Spook is pretty sure is coolant.

“Can you run hyper with one engine?” Spook asks, watching embers fall in graceful showers onto the sand.

Din dosnt answer, clearly pissed off, stalking off in the direction of the downed TIE that is crackling and burning bright against the night sky. Like they usually do, the main body has separated from the wings, something Spook always thought was a design flaw but then so is most of the Empire. The pilot has managed to get free of the cockpit and is injured, dragging himself across the sand away from the wreckage when he spots the two Mandalorians striding through the darkness tinged in flames towards him. He draws his blaster and manages one shot that misses them both by miles before Din fires back, killing him instantly. The pair come to a halt over his prone corpse- he’s Weequay, on the young side dressed in the typical robes of his race.

“Pirate,” Spook states.

Din makes a noise of agreement before rolling him over with his boot. There’s nothing about his clothing or anything on him to suggest affiliations.

“Where did he get a TIE from I wonder,” Spook muses out loud.

“Plenty of places.”

“I’d rather walk, less likely to get shot at by literally everyone except Empire sympathizers.”

Din looks over at the wreckage of the TIE. “That’s an older model, no hyperdrive. He was patrolling the system which means his base is nearby.”

“Probably from Sundari then,” Spook shrugs. Din looks back at her and she shrugs. “It wouldn’t surprise me to find Pirates in Sundari, they tend to knock about with anyone who’ll tolerate them.”

Din mutters another Mandoa curse. “Let’s hope his buddies don’t come looking for him in time for me to hopefully patch the engine.”

“Should we try Werda?” Spook looks around as he stalks off.

Din looks back. “What for?”

“For a covert.” The annoyed edge has crept back in her tone. “It’s close enough that we can get there sub light.”

“I’m not travelling sub light,” Din snaps, storming off around the side of his ship.

Spook shakes her head in disgust before pocketing his blaster. It’s not a very good one but she can sell it easily at the nearest spaceport. A quick rummage through his pockets and she finds some credits which she pockets as well before heading off to find Din. The fire is out and he is climbing the side of his ship, edging carefully across the wing. The puddle of black liquid is now a few meters wide and the flow is reduced to a steady drip from the hole. The wind whips through his short cape as he peers into the damaged engine, hands on hips.

“Well?” Spook asks as he walks back across the wing.

He scrambles down the ladder and stalks past her. “I’m sleeping on it.”

Din manages to get the ship airborne long enough to get it away from the smouldering wreckage of the TIE and nestled between two hills in the distance. Spook leaves him to fester in his anger at his new ship being damaged and has a shower. By the time she’s out of the shower, he’s landed the ship and disappeared into his sleeping pod. Spook gladly curls up on her cot and drops off to sleep soon after.

It’s a not long before dawn when Spook is startled awake by the sounds of a ship going over. Scrambling out of her cot, the door of the sleeping pod zips open as she crashes into Din who’s also slept in his armour. They stumble, swearing and apologising as Din grabs her arm to keep her from going down and she hooks her hand over the top of his breastplate to keep herself upright. Spook untangles herself first and pulls away running for the cockpit with Din right behind her, boots pounding on the metal floor. Through the domed cockpit they can just see an older ship, smaller than theirs landing near the wreckage. Din digs around the cockpit eventually finding his binoculars in a box of stuff he had shoved under the dash. The downed TIE is reduced to smouldering pile of wreckage and without the binoculars Spook can just make out a group of figures walking around the wreckage. She taps the side of her helmet to bring up the heat signature and counts half a dozen individuals walking around the ship.

“Is your ship cold?” Spook turns her head to look at Din, referring to all the systems being shut off so as not relay any signature on radar.

“The systems are off but if they have their heat signature turned on the ship will show up.”

Spook looks back out the windscreen, noting the edge of anxiety in his voice. Cautiously she sinks into the co-pilots chair as Din continues to watch the goings on. Two figures carry the corpse back to their ship as the remaining ones scout around before heading back into the ship. They don’t take off right away, lingering for a while on the sands with only their wing lights blinking steadily. Spook and Din watch silently with their breaths held as finally the ship takes off and flies out of the atmosphere in the opposite direction to where they are hiding. They watch in anxious silence as the ship disappears into the darkness. Spook releases an anxious breath.

“That was close.”

Din drops the binoculars into the box of stuff before shoving it away with his boot. “We have to get off this planet.”

“Can you repair that engine?” Spook asks.

Din shakes his head. “That shot took out the coolant system for that engine and there’s not enough in the other engine to bleed across. Hyperdrive will work but we will probably overheat that engine and if it blows in hyperdrive-“

“There will be bits of beskar from here to Kashaayyk. Gotcha,” Spook finishes.

“I can weld all the bits together so it will hold while we travel but we have to hope we find someone on Werda with coolant who’s in a sharing mood,” Din pushes himself out of his chair.

He’s at the door when he looks back noticing Spook hasn’t moved. “This isn’t a taxi service; the kid couldn’t work a welder but I know you can.”

Spook watches him stalk out the door and snorts to herself wondering how many times Din tried to involve Grogu in repairs and how many times it went wrong. Outside, Spook finds him climbing the ship again as she pauses to watch him for a few moments, the pre-dawn light glinting off the unpainted beskar musing over the tone shift. Maybe he was just overtired and the brief nap evened him out or perhaps the reality of being vulnerable has put the wind up him. Spook pushes the thoughts away and follows him up the ship.

It takes them a few hours to seal the damaged engine so it could be flown at sub light, in which time the sun has crested over the mountain range bathing the world in red and orange. They work mostly in silence aside from Din muttering instructions before finally they head back inside. Spook settles in the co-pilots seat to his right as Din begins powering up the engines. Their patch job holds, the good engine lifting them off the ground slowly. Din takes his time, not pushing the working engine above the redline as they finally crest through the atmosphere.

“The Razor Crest could hyperdrive on one engine and barely any coolant,” Din says suddenly. “I miss that pile of junk.”

“Razor Crest’s were tough buggers. I’ve saw one come to land in a spaceport once in about three pieces, they patched it together overnight and it was right as rain.”

“Mine was pulled apart by Jawas… fell off the port in Trask and put back together by Mon Calamari… nearly destroyed on a hellhole of an ice planet running from New Republic X-Wings… I put it back together more times than I can count,” Din answers, the affection evident in his tone.

“You let Mon Calamari fix your ship?” Spook asks. “That’s a mistake. They screwed up the landing gear on my X4 not that long ago. Nothing wrong with it, I asked them to refuel my ship and they decided to fix the hydraulics and charged me for the privileged.”

A small laugh escapes Din which catches Spook off guard. It’s a gravelly laugh, like his speaking voice which she knows is altered slightly by the helmet, but there’s a soft joy to it as well. She smiles unseen to herself, pleased she managed to make him laugh even just for a moment. The ship chugs through the blackness of space, the single engine revving noisily as it does all of the work. They lapse into silence for a while as the planet gets closer and closer on the horizon, progressively getting larger. The planet is almost in range when the dash suddenly lights up with incoming craft- three TIE fighters.

“You were right about the base,” Spook says as Din throttles the ship up as the TIE’s open fire.

Din snaps his head around at her. “Are you going to sit there or return fire?” he snaps.

“Oh, would you like me to this time?” Spook tilts her head, her tone sickly sweet.

A shot blurs dangerously close past the cockpit and is deflected off the shields with a muffled thud, startling Spook who snatches the weapons system and powering it up with a muttered swearword. Din rolls the ship away, aiming for the lower half of the planet as the TIE’s take turns divebombing the ship in the same manner the other one did. Spook settles into the weapons system and returns fire, winging one but the other two continue their assault.

“Get us into atmosphere!” Spook yells.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Din retorts.

Spook levels up the weapons system, waits for a lock and fires. The TIE explodes against the darkness of space, Din nosediving the craft away from the debris. The remaining two suddenly pull back. Din levels the ship, throttling it as much as he dare towards the planet knowing they didn’t pull back for no reason. Spook projects the radar onto the curved windscreen to see the two TIE’s pulling back and much further back a larger ship- an Imperial Cruiser. Din turns his head to stare at it for a moment before fumbling for the comms switch.

“Come in Imperial Cruiser. This is Din Djarin, stop firing on us!” he yells desperately.

“Is that-“ Spook begins but is cut off by the radio crackling to life.

“This is Bo Katan Kryze of the Mandalorian Resistance Army. I know who you are and who you have onboard. You will pay for your betrayal your life and I will prise the Dark Sabre from your cold dead hands,” returns the unmistakable clipped voice of the sister of the former Duchess of Mandalore.

Spook dives across to get to the communicator while Din is still staring seemingly in shock. “My father sends his greetings you miserable backstabbing bitch. How about we settle this like adults or are you too chicken to face me properly?”

“Stop it! What are you doing she has an Imperial light cruiser for _kriffs_ sakes,” Din gasps in horror, shoving her away from the radio.

“Tarin Fen. The daughter of Mandalore’s biggest coward. Your chain code reads as your father’s, you might want to fix that,” she replies curtly. “I have no quarrel with you child, but you have corrupted the future Manda’lor and now I must do what is necessary to maintain the stability for the future of Mandalore.”

Din and Spook freeze, staring slowly at one another as he’s still trying to hold her away from the radio. “Did she just call me… _child_?” Spook says, her voice cold with fury.

Din lets go of her arm and leans away so she has full access to the radio. Spook leans in. “If you want the Dark Sabre or our lives, come and get it.”

Spook dives across the cockpit as Din dives the ship towards the atmosphere. There is a pause long enough for Spook to kid herself that Bo Katan won’t retaliate, before the Cruiser launches three heat seeking missiles at the fleeing craft. Spook grabs the armrest of her chair as Din barrel rolls the ship in space dangerously to avoid them, the hull groaning as the white streaks blur towards them before doubling back. Din rights the ship and then drops it like a stone as Spook screeches, clinging on for dear life. Even with an advanced weapons system trying to hit a heat seeking missile coming for you is like trying to drop a blast charge in the exhaust port of a Death Star. Theoretically possible, but requires equal amounts of luck and force sensitivity. Din flips the ship at the last second, the box of junk coming free and careening around the cockpit as two of the missiles explode against one another.

There’s a blinding flash off white against the black as Din manages to avoid the explosion but debris pings off the ship’s exterior. “You have to hit the last charge!”

“Do I look Jedi to you?” Spook’s head snaps in his direction.

“DO IT!”

Din hauls back on the steering column pointing the ships nose up, skimming the frigid surface of the white planet, arching over and facing the oncoming charge. Spook takes a deep breath and forces out all the other noises- the single engine whining, her thundering heartbeat, the hull groaning like a sinking ship and the random objects clattering around the cockpit. The targeting system jumps all over the place as the seconds slow like molasses. Spook releases the breath. The system suddenly finds the oncoming charge, jumping around the screen erratically. Spook inhales, feeling the world go quiet as suddenly it locks on. Spook’s thumb closes on the trigger, firing the heavy ion guns. Spook feels the recoil deep in the ships hull before they fire, releasing the pulse of energy into space.

The canon blast hits the missile dangerously close to the ship, the world exploding in a shower of white sparks. Din drops the ship through the atmosphere without slowing as if they took a hit. The hull begins to heat, flames licking up the sides as he yanks back on the steering column trying to slow the descent. The world below them suddenly comes into view through the clouds; endless white snowy plains flat and featureless but with mountains visible in the distance. The ship begins to slow but still makes a loud bang as it breaks the sound barrier coming through the atmosphere. The radar suddenly lights up as the two TIE fighters pop through the atmosphere behind them.

“Give us a kriffing break!” Spook screams in frustration.

Din slams back the air brake which jolts the ship violently, Spook feeling like her head was about to pop off. It slows the ship enough that he’s able to steer upwards, rolling the ship upside down so Spook can fire at the approaching TIE. She misses, Din rolling the ship between them, clipping one with the wing of his ship sending it careening off into the distance. It doesn’t crash, but it gives Din an opportunity to line up with the other one as it attempts a divebomb on their ship. Spook lets the weapons system find the target before jabbing the button down, exploding the TIE above the surface of the snowy planet.

“Where’s the other one? Where’s the other one?” Spook demands frantically as it vanishes off radar for a second.

The TIE suddenly explodes back through the atmosphere and bears down on the them firing rapidly. Din dives the ship out of the way but isn’t quick enough, hitting the same winged engine this time blasting off part of the wing affecting the ship’s stability. Spook braces her hand against the wall as he struggles to keep it airborne, the mountain range filling the windscreen as the ship spins in mid-air. The last engine whines torturously, alarms blaring as the ship makes contact with the surface of the snowy planet with a sickening crash. Snow is hurled up into the air as the ship spins twice across the snowy surface before coming to rest at the foot of the mountain.

Everything goes quiet for a moment, aside from the engine powering down and the snow settling on the ship. Spook flops back against her seat, struggling with her seatbelt, the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the otherwise silence of the cabin.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah? You?”

“No broken bones,” Din replies, ripping his seatbelt off.

Spook manages to find her legs as Din struggles out of his seat, both leaning on the captain’s chair for support, breathing heavily. Spook’s legs feel like jelly, her heart feels like its about explode and she is buzzing with adrenalin. She has never badly crashed a ship like that or been shot at by TIE fighters, not in the same day anyways. Din straightens up stiffly and drops a hand on her shoulder.

“Nice shot.”

Spook turns her head, watching as he walks out of the cockpit feeling heart skip an entire beat. She pushes the thoughts away, reminding herself they are still very much in danger and follows him out into the cargo area where he is organising his rifle. Silently she reaches for her sniper rifle and checks its loaded. Rummaging in her backpack she finds her last two rounds and pockets them. 

“How many has Bo Katan got on that ship?”

“Bo Katan sent me to find the coaxium on your planet from the Cruiser that was docked above an empty moon in Hutt Space. She only had eight on board then, all Mandalorians. That Weequay we shot down was definitely from her crew which means she’s teamed up with pirates, so she could have a full crew for all we know,” Din replies ruefully, checking his blaster.

Spook shakes her head. “I don’t like this. There could be twelve or a hundred.”

“She called you child.” Din pauses what he’s doing to look at her.

“I didn’t say we’re surrendering; I’m saying the odds are pretty bad at the moment,” Spook replies passionately.

Din returns to what he’s doing as Spook checks how many rounds she has in her blaster. Outside they can hear the approaching roar of the Cruiser dropping through the atmosphere towards them.

“She knew your father was on Vandor,” Din says quietly. “She sent me there on purpose.”

Spook looks across the crate at him. “She thought my father would kill you and if he didn’t, she would deem you a traitor. A win-win for her.”

“I wanted to give her the Dark Sabre, I just wanted Grogu back.”

“It doesn’t work like that, but I think she needed probable cause to fight you and saying you teamed up with Mandalore’s favourite ghost story is pretty good, I’ll give her that. Remember she’s a politician as much as she’s a Mandalorian,” Spook replies evenly.

The roar outside is getting louder and Din doesn’t answer, consumed in checking his last piece of weaponry. Slinging the rifle over his back he strides through the cargo are for the tail gate, Spook falling into stride beside him. Leaning over he slams his fist against the button to lower the tailgate, snow blowing in as it lowers. Spook sweeps her cloak over her shoulders before reaching down to make sure the laser whip is attached to her side. The wind gusts into the ship, whipping through Spook’s cloak as she lifts the hood over her helmet, watching the ramp lower.

A troop carrier exits the side of Cruiser rapidly heading towards them, already firing on their ship. Spook looks over at Din to ask what the plan is but he’s aiming the rifle at the troop carrier. The shot hits the propellers with a small plume of flames as the troop carrier spins in mid-air before crashing in the snow a few hundred meters from Din’s ship. The pair stride out into the snow, blasters ready as the troop carrier bursts open and pirates spill out onto the snow, running towards them blasters firing. Shots begin to ping off their armour as Spook and Din return fire, Spook dropping two with Din beside her calmly taking down pirates as they run from the ship. Another troop carrier leaves the cruiser headed towards them, opening fire and staying out of range of Din’s rifle.

“Get closer to them, they wont shoot at their own,” Din says picking up a run.

Spook runs for the nearest pirate and tackles him to the ground shooting him as they go down, already recoiling and aiming for the next one. Beside her Din has engaged two of the pirates and fighting them at close quarters, firing shots at the oncoming pirates. Their beskar armour deflects the blaster shots, Spook using her cape to distract their aim, twirling and ducking as she fights. Dropping the last pirate near her Spook looks across for Din whose fighting three pirates and struggling.

Reaching for her side, Spook uncoils the laser whip and flicks it, the lash lighting up white as it unfurls, wrapping around the nearest pirate’s arm as he swung his fist at Din’s head, instantly decapitating it. The Pirate drops to his knees screaming as Spook shoots him, the other two staring in horror. Din wastes no time, taking them out, before looking up at the sky as the airborne troop carriers roars down on them for another pass firing on them. The pair dive for cover inside the downed carrier as the one in the air opens fire, shots thudding into the metal hull. Din hauls the door shut as they collapse in a heap on the floor as the carrier roars over. Breathing heavy, they can hear the pirates yelling outside waiting to advance again as the carrier wheels overhead.

“Any last confessions before we get shot to bits?” Spook breathes heavily.

Din loads his last clip into the blaster and leans against the door to push it open. “I wasn’t unconscious for two days straight.”

With that he steps out from the carrier firing at pirates trying to sneak around the side leaving Spook staring at him stunned. A shot pings dangerously close to her helmet, startling her back to the present as she fires in the opposite direction as the pirates try to surround them. The remaining two carriers have landed, pirates spilling out of them. Spook and Din fight side by side, with their backs against the carrier, taking down pirates but rapidly getting overwhelmed. The last carrier to land contains Bo Katan, Koska Reeves and Axe Woves who stride towards the fighting, helmets on and blasters ready. They stop a couple of hundred paces away, watching the pirates wading into the melee and emerge injured or not at all from the side of the carrier.

Spook fights comfortably with the whip in one hand and blaster in the other, most pirates only getting close enough to be separated from their body parts, occasionally bouncing bolts off her armour. Din runs out of rounds, holstering his blaster, his rifle empty and reaches for the spear. Spook looks around as he uses it efficiently but the Dark Sabre still hooked to his belt. She dives across his side, blocking a sneak attack from a pirate with the whip and then twirling easily out of Din’s way as he jabs the spear into the pirate beside him.

“Are you ever going to use that sabre or is there for its looks?” she yells, blocking his back from oncoming pirates.

“Focus on your own problems!” he yells back.

“I’m just asking!”

Din spins the spear one handed to knock out a pirate beside him before turning to jab it into the pirate who comes behind him. Spook spins the whip around, the lash cracking like thunder when suddenly the world seems to dull for a moment. Turning her head, she looks around to see Bo Katan, less than a hundred paces away, blaster raised. As if she was watching it take place from outside her body, she sees Bo Katan pull the trigger, the shot whizzes past Spook, nailing Din in the arm just above the elbow. Din drops to his knees screaming in pain, dropping the spear and clutching his arm. The world goes quiet aside from the distant roar of the idling engines of the Imperial Cruiser, the wind whipping through the valley and Spook’s pounding heart. The pirates hold their fire, stepping aside as Bo Katan advances with Koska Reeves and Axe Woves at her side, blasters raised as Spook plants herself over Din, whip unfurled and crackling with energy.

“Step aside,” she orders, wisely stopping just out of reach of the whip’s lash.

“No.”

“You have no stake in this, step aside and allow me to assume my role as the rightful heir of Mandalore,” Bo Katan says, her voice carrying across the snowy plain.

“By killing the wounded Mandalorian who rightfully won the Dark Sabre and after you have teamed up with bottom feeding space pirates to get it back? You’re even more despicable that my father told me,” Spook sneers as Din clutches his arm, blood oozing through his fingers onto the snow.

Bo Katan laughs scornfully. “Your father is a coward. He left your mother to die on Mandalore and fled the planet with you as a baby. He doesn’t deserve the armour he wears or to bear the name of our people.”

“My father fled as a refugee from our home world because your greed and lust for power destroyed it. He may not have been able to stop you, but I will,” Spook snarls.

“You and what army?” Koska Reeves sneers.

There is the suddenly roar of jetpacks and yells in Mando’a as the sky behind Bo Katan suddenly fills with Mandalorians on jetpacks flying in. The effect is immediate, half the pirates begin to open fire on the incoming Mandalorians, whereas the other half make a run for it. Bo Katan attempts a single shot which pings off Spook’s chest plate as she flicks the whip, aiming for Bo Katan’s head. The lash stops just short of her visor, the air filled with the crack like a bolt of lightning causing her to jerk backwards. One of the incoming Mandalorians opens fire with a heavy repeating artillery blaster, causing the pirates to scatter. Bo Katan and her crew make a run for it, launching into the sky headed for the Cruiser as the sky fills with blaster shots.

Spook drops to her knees beside Din, gently trying to prise his hand off the wound to see he damage as he groans in agony. He leans against the wall of carrier, breathing heavily, blood oozing between his fingers and seeping into his flight suit. Its bad, the shot has gone through the back of his arm just above the elbow and ripped open the muscle exposing the bone. Spook feels the panic course through her veins, aware that she’s saying things like ‘its going to be ok’. Shots fly overhead, some pinging off the carrier as Spook tries to quell the rising panic at Din’s injury. Two Mandalorians land heavily beside them, kicking snow up from their boots, startling Spook.

“Where the bloody hell have you lot been?” Spook yells up at them.

“Your ship landed on our main entry,” returns one of them in black and yellow armour. “We had to use our escape exit to get out.”

“Sorry about that,” Din mumbles in pain.

“We have a med-pack. Stay still brother,” says the other one kneeling beside him.

Spook steps aside watching the Mandalorians deal with the remaining pirates who are trying to flee to their ship. The Cruiser suddenly roars to life, Bo Katan clearly on board and despite the troop carrier still being on the ground has given the order to make a run for it. The last carrier finally gets in the air as the Cruiser begins to power away from the ground, snow blasted in every which direction as the world is filled with a deafening roar. The carrier frantically motors for the fleeing ship as a Mandalorian on the ground in older style armour takes aim at the fleeing carrier. Spook watches the rocket launch from his back, whistle through the sky and make direct contact showering the snowy valley in wreckage. The Cruiser breaks through the surface, just visible through the clouds when it makes the jump to light speed with an echoing boom that rings out across the planet. The last of the pirates, abandoned on the planet are being dealt with as Spook turns back to Din.

“Where’s your jetpack?” demands one of the Mandalorians straightening up.

They have wrapped Din’s arm up and have helped him to his feet. “I never trained in the rising phoenix,” Spook stumbles over her response. Her father left his jetpack for her mother and not being affiliated with any coverts she never had access to any to train with, not that its ever held her back.

His buddy, a tall Mandalorian in black and blue armour holds out his arms. “Guess I’m your ride then.”

Spook stares at him for a moment and looks at Din who has his arm wrapped around the other one. Din weakly jerks his head in her direction before they take off, towards the mountain. “Don’t you dare tell my father about this,” she says pointing at him, before wrapping both arms around his neck.

“Our secret,” he laughs, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and taking off.

***

It’s a few hours later when the unofficial medicine man of the covert, an older Mandalorian in white and grey armour steps out from behind the closed door where he had been treating Din. Spook looks up from her position on the floor where she had sat for most of evening, leaving only to eat in the mess hall before returning to her post. The older Mandalorian painfully joins her on the floor, leaning up against the wall. Spook breathlessly waits for him to speak.

“He’s the Manda’lor,” the older man says eventually to which Spook nods. “The explains why Bo Katan Kryze graced us with her presence. She knows we’re here; we’ve sent her packing before.”

“She sent Din to Vandor where my father and I have been guarding a load of coaxium in the mountains, thinking my father would kill him but if he didn’t she could say he had defected from her cause so whenever she had to justify winning the Dark Sabre back as it would sound like she had probable cause for killing a fellow Mandalorian in battle.”

“She nearly did too… that arm is a mess and he lost a lot of blood,” the Doc replies quietly. “He’ll need a couple of months downtime for it to heal properly and then I can’t guarantee he’ll have the same use in it afterwards. Lucky she got him in the left arm not the right.”

“I’ll take him back to Vandor once he’s well enough to travel. We’re heading into winter and once it sets in nothing gets up our mountain.”

“The boys are moving the ship off the entry and will do their best with it. But you’re always welcome around our fire, you, your father and the Manda’lor,” the Doc turns his white helmet to gaze at her.

“Thank you.”

With that the Doc pushes himself off the wall and ambles off leaving Spook in silence, alone with her thoughts. Exhaustion had begun to seep into the corners of her brain, her eyelids blinking heavily and yet her mind could not stop replaying the last few hours. Her father warned her from a young age that Bo Katan was dangerous but seeing the woman up close, seeing how she sent at least two dozen pirates in to do the hard work then took a coward shot from the side-line to drop Din was beyond repulsive. It’s one thing to hear stories about someone, it’s another thing to see them in action and realise they are so much worse than the stories.

But it wasn’t just that…

That moment, before she shot Din, where the world seemed to lull and wash. Like she sensed Bo Katan’s presence and intent before it happened… Spook reached for her side and unclipped the laser whip, igniting its white lash against the stone floor. It was still white and yet what she felt was… like premonitions and her father told her enough about the Sith, the Jedi, the Force… it didn’t make sense. The moment with the missile, despite the chaos of the moment she was able to tune it down to nothing and time slowed to nothing. She was a skilled warrior who was able to focus intently on a target, an enemy but that felt different… impossible even. Spook turned the whip off and coiled it away, out of sight. She was exhausted and not thinking straight.

*****

Spook drops the X4 through the atmosphere, the ship breaking through heavy grey clouds. Her father wasn’t impressed when she dropped Din off and the next morning jumped in her ship and left. It’s hard to know who was happier to see one another, Din or Grogu who struggled out of the blankets Lew had wrapped him in to be picked up by his Dad. As much as Spook wanted to crash on the couch and not move for the rest of winter, she needed to see someone first.

There is no one waiting for her when she lands on the cliff, she didn’t radio her visit ahead wanting to catch him off gaurd. Spook powers down the ship and heads for the rear door, slinging her cloak over her shoulders. Its threatening to rain again, heavy clouds moving slowly over the bell-shaped building as Spook steps into the wet grass and heads towards the cluster of buildings. She has nearly reached the main building when she hears a voice beside her.

“He’s not in there, he’s on his rock.”

Spook turns quickly and finds Luke’s nephew, Ben staring up at her with big eyes. He’s holding a pretend lightsabre and hiding between the columns of the building.

“How did you know who I was looking for?” Spook says curiously.

Ben stares at her like she’s an idiot. “Because you’re a grown-up and he’s the only grown-up here?”

Spook chastises herself like she expected some mystical answer. “Where did you say he is?”

“On his rock, go around this building and go down the hill. He says I’m not allowed my own rock until I master the ways of the Force,” Ben pouts. “But sometimes I sit on his rock when he’s not looking.”

Spook supresses a giggle and nods. “Thank you, Ben.”

Spook steps around the side of the building as a group of Jedi pupils come charging around the other side, yelling like banshees waving pretend lightsabres. Spook watches as Ben jumps out from his hiding place yelling, brandishing his lightsabre and begins to duel them. Spook shakes her head in amusement and heads off down the hill in search of Luke.

The terrain rolls away from the main buildings, sloping towards the ocean to a large rocky cove with pebbled beach. Its peaceful up here, away from two dozen screaming kids having a lightsabre duel. As Spook trudges through the grass that’s fluttering and waving like ocean waves, she wonders how Luke does it, a dozen kids with just him and his faithful droid R2. Grogu alone did her head in and even with Din, her father and herself he occupies their time and attention obsessively.

She finds Luke in a rocky cove and as Ben said, sat on a large boulder. Luke is sat with his back to her, cross legged, hands clasped in his lap and the wind lifting up his blonde hair. Spook stands at a distance for awhile watching him… meditate? Commune with the force? Think about drowning himself? She has no idea. The waves pound against the rocks and rush up the pebbled beach with a clatter that begins to grate on Spook’s nerves. Her boots slide on the stones as she approaches, coming to a halt a couple of meters away from him. She stands still, wondering how long it will take for him to realise she’s there.

“I knew the moment you stepped off your ship, if you were wondering,” Luke says suddenly, his voice carrying over the sound of the waves and the wind.

“Just now or before?” Spook says staring at his back.

“Before. Din Djarin doesn’t know this but he’s a conductor of the force, like a lightning rod. He can’t wield it himself but he’s drawn to those who can. There are no coincidences in the galaxy, just the Force.”

Spook feels her heartbeat quicken and her breath catch in her throat. “The laser whip… its white… I’m not…”

Luke turns around, slinging his legs over the side of the rock and approaches her, hands tucked under his robes. He tilts his head, smiling warmly. “An awakening is nothing to be afraid of Spook.”

“I’m not a Jedi,” Spook says forcefully.

“No, you’re not. But you can feel and once you feel it, you can’t go back. A bit like love.”

Spook freezes, not for the first time wondering how much the damn Jedi knows. “The laser whip…”

“Not all Jedi’s lightsabres change colour. It’s fitting really, black is the colour of justice in Mandalorian armour and white is the colour of balance in the force. It’s like poetry, it rhymes,” Luke responds philosophically.

“I don’t… this isn’t my life,” Spook stammers, trying to articulate several things she’s feeling at once.

“It’s not.”

Spook looks up at him, trying to find the words. “What do I do?”

Luke gently takes her by the arm, steering her up the beach as she realises the irritating sound of the waves on the pebbles has faded to nothing and yet the waves still crash on the beach. All of a sudden, she can hear it again, like her mind tuned it out but when she realised it had done it, the sound came back.

“Go back to Vandor. You will know what to do next when the time comes,” Luke replies gently.

“How will I know?” Spook says uncertainly.

Luke turns his head to smile at her. “Because this is the way.”


	2. Chapter 19: The Heir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I started writing the adventures of Spook Fen for one thing I didnt think I would even finish the first chapter and for seconds I didnt think I would be writing another but by the end of it I realised I had created something special. Mandalorians are more than Bounty Hunters and Mercs. They are an entire race of people displaced and torn apart by the Empire, trying to rebuild themselves in these unstable times. Everyone is carrying around trauma and bagage over the past and its important to acknowledge what happened in order to move forwards.  
> This chapter was difficult to write for some other reasons and if you dont do scenes of very non Disney+ torture then maybe this chapter isnt for you. If it is then I hope you liked it

The wind gusts strongly up the side of the mountain, flurries of snow settling on Spook Fen and Din Djarin’s helmet and shoulders. Spook lifts a gloved hand to brush the snow that’s accumulating on her visor and peers through the scope of her rifle down the valley. Dark shapes are moving down the opposite gully, still out of range but moving closer. There’s a trail from one mountain range to another, accessible regardless of the weather and the kod’yak use it to travel across land. Spook counts fifteen, one male as there typically is in a herd, half a dozen females and their young. Trailing the pack is teenager, likely a male from last season, whose yet been moved on by the buck of the herd.

“See the teenager at the back,” Spook says passing her rifle over to Din. He settles the scope against his visor and a moment later makes a noise of acknowledgement. “That’s the one you wanna aim at.”

Din looks up from the scope at her. “Why not the buck?”

“The meat will be too tough and gamey. The only thing a male kod’yak his age is for is jerky and I don’t fancy eating jerky for the rest of my life.”

“And the females?”

Spook shrugs and dusts the snow off the shoulders of her cape. “The locals do that and then capture the young one which they train as pack animals but we don’t need pack animals and the young don’t have enough meat on them to justify killing them as well.”

Din turns back to scope, watching them amble closer with a repressed sigh. Spook can sense his impatience; he’s already suggested sneaking down the mountain and ambushing them or getting closer than this rocky ledge. Spook grins unseen under her helmet. He hasn’t handled the last six weeks very well; they have been snowed in for most of it and his arm has been on the mend. Spook gets the sense this is the longest he’s been in one place for years and not being able to move his arm properly has about driven him insane. This is Din’s first trip out of their hideout since they returned from Werda and he practically ran down the mountain, eager to do anything that wasn’t sitting in front of the fire.

Spook’s mind drifts back to Werda- the battle with Bo Katan and her crew where they were saved by the covert buried deep in the mountains. Bo Katan had sent in three loads of pirates to finish them off and when they nearly beat them, she took a coward’s shot from the side line to incapacitate Din in an attempt to win the Dark Sabre back from him. Spook had spent her whole life hearing about Bo Katan, how she betrayed her sister and sucked up to Darth Maul but to actually see her in action and how low she would stoop, floored her. Mandalorians were courageous, noble warriors who valued creed and family over anything else and Bo Katan was dragging that reputation through the mud.

Din suddenly startles beside her, his fingers fiddling with the scope. Spook turns and cranes her head over the rocky ledge, her eyes finding the herd of kod’yak in the valley. Their heads are all up on alert, staring around themselves. Spook is just about to ask what has startled them when the heavy grey clouds are parted by a ship breaking through the atmosphere. Din and Spook stare up in horror as the Imperial Light Cruiser fills the world with the roar of its engines, the kod’yak scattering in the valley below them. The clouds are sucked through its mammoth engines as it moves through the sky, around the side of the mountain in the direction of the old coaxium mine.

“Dad,” Spook gasps in horror at the same time Din says ‘Grogu’ with the same terror in his voice.

The pair leap from the hiding place and begin scrambling back up the mountain. Spook fumbles in her pocket for her communicator, dropping it in the snow. Swearing she skitters back after it, banging her shin painfully against a rock. Snatching up the communicator she struggles to her feet, Din darting back to pull her up.

“Dad! Dad! Come in! We’ve got company! Bo Katan has found us!” Spook screams breathlessly into the communicator as they struggle up the snowy mountain.

Moments later her Dad’s voice crackles over the communicator. “Kid? Where are you?”

“Coming up the mountain towards you, get in the X-4! We gotta bug out now!”

At the peak of the mountain, the entire snowy valley spreads out before them with the base jutting out from the side of the mountain like a bird’s nest. The Cruiser hangs in mid-air above the valley, the roar from its engines reverberating from peak-to-peak rattling Spook’s bones. Down in the gully on the opposite side of the mountain is Din’s ship, barely visible under a blanket of heavy snow where it has sat since they got back from Werda. The wind gusts up the mountain face, threatening to knock them over as Spook turns to Din.

“Jet down to your ship and-“ but her voice is cut off by the unmistakable blast of the canons firing from the ship. Microseconds later the X-4 Rebellion gunship, Spook’s primary source of transport and home away from home explodes against the mountain in a fireball of red and orange. Spook screams, her voice echoing across the valley, ragged and broken as she falls to her knees in the snow. From the side of the Cruiser, troop carriers sail downwards to the base of the mountain as Din stares numbly, frozen on the spot as the flames from the burning gunship lick into the grey sky. The troop carriers land and moments later stormtroopers bundle out and begin to make their way up the mountain.

“That’s the Empire not-“ Din begins, whirling around to pull Spook to her feet as the communicator crackles to life.

“Spook! Come in!” her father yells, his voice breaking up.

“Dad! Where are you?”

“You know how I say it’s better to have one big enemy that you can see rather than lots of little enemies you can’t? I change my mind. The Empire is back!” he responds sounding uncharacteristically panicked. 

Din grabs her wrist so he can yell into the communicator. “Meet us down at my ship!”

Spook struggles to her feet and pushes past Din, scrambling down the slippery mountain towards the gully Din’s ship was hidden in. Over her shoulder she hears a noise like a jet burner and turns her head in time to see Din flying down the mountain towards her like a divebombing hawk. Spook manages a muffled scream as he grabs her around the waist lifting her screaming off the ground. The world blurs past Spook’s visor in whites and greys, her legs flailing above empty space as she grips Din’s arm screaming blue murder at him.

“LET ME GO!” she screams.

Meters from his ship, Din dutifully obeys dropping Spook in a deep snowdrift as he lands beside his ship and stabs the landing gear open. Spook struggles in the deep snow, trying to find her feet, still screaming abuse at Din as he dives into the ship. Her father suddenly erupts from the side entrance cut into the mountain, dressed in his full armour with Grogu tucked in one arm and the book of the records under the other.

“Quit stuffing around in the snow Spook!” he yells, boots pounding on the lowered tailgate as Spook is finally on her feet, covered in snow and storming towards the tailgate.

Spook slams her fist on the rear tailgate button as Din powers the engines up. Her father puts the book down on a crate of ammo and hands her The Child, ignoring her appearance, as the ship lifts off the ground. Snow falls from the wings of the ship and is blasted every which way as Din quickly powers the ship up away from the side of the mountain. Lew Fen strides to the side door and punches it open as Din turns the ship around, rising rapidly into the ashen grey sky. Reaching in his pocket Lew pulls out the detonator and arms it while holding himself steady on the handrail beside the door. Aside from metric tonnes of raw and processed coaxium in the mountains, the Empire had left behind a cache of weapons. Recognising that one day they would face an enemy with enough firepower to take over the base, Lew laid out the charges for a moment such as this.

Din’s ship crests the top of the mountain, the Cruiser down below in the valley and the stormtroopers just visible picking their way through the wreckage. Calmly, Lew presses his finger into the detonator and moments later the world erupts into a fireball of red. The shockwave blasts Din’s ship, knocking it sideways in mid-air, Spook stumbling and nearly falling over, catching herself on the wall as Grogu squeals. In the doorway, the flames from the exploding mountain glow against Lew’s matt black armour as he watches the base explode below him before stabbing the door shut. Din powers the ship through the atmosphere and on the edge of space punches it into hyperdrive.

Spook sits with a heavy flop on the crate, looking down at Grogu who coos up at her, his little green hand resting on top of hers. Lew strides across the loading back and sits down beside her heavily. Spook hands him Grogu and begins brushing the snow from her cloak as Din slides down the ladder from the cockpit before settling on the crate beside Lew.

“I’m sorry about your ship,” he says, gently accepting Grogu who stretched his arms out for his Dad. “And your home.”

“Don’t mention it,” she mutters darkly, taking her cloak off so she can flap the snow out of it.

“It was going to happen one day,” Lew shrugs pragmatically. “Where are we headed?”

“Werda.”

Lew nods. “Good. I want to meet these Mandalorians you told me about. We can lay low there for a bit and figure out what to do next.”

“Will you return to Yavin 4?” Din asks, referring to their previous hideout on that planet.

Lew looks at Spook who’s finally cleaned up and is sweeping her cloak back across her shoulders. “I don’t know. I do feel like reaching out to Kes Dameron and telling him they didn’t finish the job on Endor.”

“He wouldn’t appreciate that,” Spook says wryly.

“Well, it’s true,” Lew heaves a sigh. “I knew it was too good to be true, that removing Darth Vader and Emperor Palpatine was the end of it all. Evil has always been present in one form or another and removing the two figureheads wouldn’t be enough. There was a vacuum and of course it was going to be filled by someone. My pressing question is whose calling the shots now they’re gone.”

“The Empire had no shortage of terrible people, could be any one of them,” Spook shakes her head.

Lew shakes his head. “Its starting to feel coordinated. It amazes me that they’re still finding chumps to wear the plastoid though.”

“Do you think they’re clones?” Spook asks.

Lew mulls the question and then shakes his head. “No. Unfortunately there are plenty of orphans in the galaxy from places like Jakku, Corellia, Hays Minor… you name it. For some of those kids anything is worth a warm bed and three-square meals which I don’t think the New Republic understands.”

“Whose to say I wouldn’t be a stormtrooper if the Empire found me before the Mandalorians,” Din adds ruefully.

“Nah. You shoot too straight,” Lew says teasingly. 

“We need to contact the New Republic, tell them the Empire is back,” Spook looks between the two men.

Din shakes his head but her father answers. “Spook, we’re Mandalorians. To the New Republic we’re Bounty Hunters and Mercenaries. They won’t give a womp rats arse what we think, let alone listen.”

“How about Luke? They’ll listen to him, right? His sister is Leia Organa who’s on the Senate,” Spook offers a little desperately. “We can’t just sit here, watching the Empire reform and do nothing?”

“The New Republic took Moff Gideon into custody, Spook. Clearly, they think it’s a one-off,” Lew replies tiredly.

“That’s because they’re moronic politicians sat up in their ivory towers with no real clue what’s going on in the outer rims,” Spook rages.

Lew gazes at her with love that radiates even through a layer of beskar. “You inherited your mothers’ fire and my disdain for politics but neither of those things will help us in this instance.”

“But Luke?”

“Without finding the Empire and shoving it under his nose, he probably will be too involved in training the next generation of Jedi,” Lew replies with a loose shrug.

“There won’t be a next generation of Jedi if we don’t start warning people that the Empire is back,” Spook states firmly, pointing at Grogu who chimes in cheerfully.

“You’re more than welcome to find Leia Organa and tell her yourself but short of that and especially in armour, they won’t listen,” Lew gets up and crosses the room to pick up his book of records.

“Then I’ll violate the creed,” Spook says defiantly staring after him.

“No, you won’t,” Din says gently.

“I will,” Spook snaps her head back to look at Din. “If that’s what it takes, for me to violate the creed for them idiots in the Senate fighting about trading routes and market squares to listen that we have a real problem on our hands, then that’s what I will do.”

“It won’t make a difference,” Din replies ruefully.

*****

It takes half a day to cross space in hyperdrive to reach Werda, a frigid planet in Mandalorian space. While there were dozens of planets in Mandalorian space, so far they had only found life on Werda. Din and Spook had found the covert by accident and they had saved the pair from Bo Katan. Without their intervention, Spook was certain Din at least would have died, perhaps also herself as its unlikely Bo Katan would have let her live. Spook braces herself against the co-pilots chair currently inhabited by her father as Din brings the ship to land in the gully between two peaks, carefully landing it between four other ships of varying ages and styles all covered in snow.

The three Mandalorians and Grogu nestled in his carrier slung around his father’s neck watch the tailgate lower and not to their surprise there are two Mandalorians waiting for them. Spook recognizes the tall, muscular mando in yellow and black armour named Terr Bruhl, who jetted her away from the fighting along with the covert’s mechanic.

“The Manda’lor has returned!” Terr greets them cheerfully. “And he brings the rest of his clan.”

“His clan?” Lew mutters but is ignored.

Din steps forward to greet them when Grogu interjects in the conversation, like he often does, causing both Mandos to halt in their tracks. Spook watches in amusement as both helmets look down at Grogu and then up at Din.

“What’s that?” asks the mechanic baffled, pointing at Grogu.

Din visibly bristles. “My son.”

“He’s in the book of records if any of you have a problem with that,” Lew rumbles.

Terr is still staring in obvious confusion at Grogu as the mechanic who Spook discerns is older, tilts his white helmet to look up at Lew. “The book of the records was destroyed on Mandalore, the Empire and the Sith made sure we were erased from history and had no means of tracing our lineage to stop us reforming.”

“I am Lew Fen from Clan Fen. This is my daughter Spook- I mean Tarin Fen. Her mother was Liia Nes of Clan Kryze and I served under Duchess Satine as the assistant to Official keeper of records,” Lew says, displaying the book he had under his arm.

Both Mandalorians stare at him in silence that’s broken only by the wind, before the mechanic finally speaks. “You and your clan are welcome for as long as you like. Come in, please come in.”

“That’s more like it,” Lew turns his head to look at Din and Spook as the Mechanic leads them inside.

There are two entrances into the covert; a former beskar mine that had long yielded its last load and had been turned into a Mandalorian covert sometime during the Empire. The central room has a high ceiling with an enormous open fire at its centre with an air vent converted into a chimney venting the smoke out. There are several arms that span off from the main room with dormitories, a med bay, mess rooms and even a school room. The Mechanic and Terr lead the trio down the darkened hallway lit by small flickering lamps on the wall, boots echoing on the stone floor. Spook can feel the bitter cold seeping under her armour and is grateful for her cloak as she drifts along behind her father and Din.

Terr pushes the heavy double doors open revealing the large mess hall and the glowing warmth of the fire place. Spook is immediately struck by how full the room is, there are easily two dozen Mandalorians of varying ages gathered around the room. Spook stops, taking in the room in awe. Its easily the most Mandalorians she has ever seen in one place in her life. There are all ages and while predominantly men, there are a number of women and even kids. There are all kinds of armour too- newer models like Din and Spook’s armour, Night Owls, Death Watch and the more classic shapes in every colour available. Spook spots the medic over in the corner, as well as some of the kids running around, fighting each other with sticks. In his carrier Grogu seems to be interested in their antics as well, gurgling in their direction before looking up at Din with big eyes as if asking to join them.

“You guys weren’t this full last time?” Spook asks.

Terr looks back and shakes his head. “The covert on Ithor was destroyed. These are the survivors, plus our own residents and a few mandos passing through.”

“Looks like we might be sleeping on the ship,” Spook says to Din.

Spook looks back at Din when he doesn’t answer. His head is turned the other way, staring down a hallway with a door open. From inside the room Spook can just make out the flickering flames of a hearth burning and a tall figure moving about inside.

Terr has begun a sentence when Din strides past Spook towards the open door. Terr follows Spook’s gaze. “Oh yeah we’ve gained an Armourer since you were here, which is pretty handy. They’re few and far between these days. We’re hoping she can stick around and pass on her skills.”

Spook follows Din to where he is stood in the doorway staring into the semi-darkness broken by the flicker of the blue flames. She is taller than Spook with a gold, horned helmet and a fur cape that hangs off her shoulders, with a chest plate and a heavy maroon coat that hangs to her knees. She moves purposefully around the room, a pauldron clasped between the tongs in her hand with an air of tranquillity. Spook thinks for a moment she hasn’t seen them as her back is to them but eventually, she turns slightly, admiring her work as Din steps almost hesitantly into the darkness.

“The foundling has returned to your care,” she says, her voice steady but compelling.

“Yes,” Din says hesitantly. “He completed his training with the Jedi.”

The gold helmet turns to regard them for a moment. “It seems as though the foundling is meant to be among the Mandalorians, not the Jedi. Very peculiar. Perhaps the universe has a path most unusual for this little one.”

She places the pauldron down along with the tongs and her gaze travels to Spook. “I sense much has changed since we last saw one another.”

“It has.”

“I’m Spook Fen,” Spook takes a step forward to join Din in the semi-darkness.

“I know,” The Armourer replies.

The Armourer takes a step forward, Spook suddenly nervous for a reason she couldn’t label. The Armourer stops, her gaze seemingly travelling past Spook and Din, to Lew who had suddenly appeared in the doorway filling the space.

“Lew Fen, it has been a long time,” The Armourer’s helmet nods slowly in his direction.

Lew steps into the darkness, standing behind Spook. “I see you’ve met my daughter Spook. I never brought her to Nevarro, I always thought that place was a dive and not safe for my kid.”

“Among other reasons,” the Armourer responds.

“Among other reasons,” Lew intones with a strange edge on his voice. Spook turns her head to look at Din at the same time he turns to look at her, wondering if she heard the same thing he did before pushing it away with a shudder.

“I have brought the book of the records to update and we seek shelter for a while. We were guarding a cache of coaxium in the old refinery on Vandor but the Empire showed up so I destroyed the lot taking our home with it,” Lew continues quickly.

“The Empire is not cold in its grave,” the Armourer says, her voice profoundly sad. “They destroyed our covert on Ithor and have been active in the area. While the Empire lives, the future of Mandalorians is under threat.”

“Along with everyone else,” Spook interjects.

Spook senses the men in the room giving her the evil eye for her comment but she ignores them. “Indeed,” the Armourer agrees after a moment. “Our kind was almost wiped out because of the Empire. But with our lineage preserved, our identity set in stone, we can begin to rebuild and take a stand. This is the way.”

“This is the way,” ripples around the room as she turns back to her work.

Lew turns on his heel and heads back into the main common room leaving Spook and Din with the Armourer. Spook looks at Din who stands hesitantly staring after the Armourer, as if wanting to say something and then abandons it, following Lew from the room. Spook has nearly reached the door when the Armourer speaks again in that soft, yet commanding voice.

“You are the one they call the Sith Hunter.”

Spook turns in the doorway, watching her admire her work. “I am, like my father before me.”

The gold helmet turns slightly towards her. “I have heard of your conquests. Your name will be sung in songs, alongside Manda’lor the Redeemer.”

Spook watches her return to her work, her mind jumbling with questions. The Armourer places the pauldron across the flames, as Spook tries to collect her thoughts over the crackle of hearth. The Armourer offers nothing more, beginning to hammer away at the hot metal, the clang of the hammer hitting the pauldron echoing painfully even through her helmet. 

“Spook!” her father’s voice yells from the common room, summoning her.

Spook spares one more glance at the Armourer, wishing she, like Luke Skywalker would just speak in full, obvious sentences not riddles. Unless it was that she was force sensitive, or other things she didn’t want to face. Spook sweeps out into the common room where her father is seated at the table and already has a crowd around him. Grogu is out of his carrier trying to make friends with the Mandalorian kids with Din kneeling down, chatting to the younger Mandalorians. Spook drags her gaze away from Din interacting with the kids and forces herself to focus on her father.

“What page is Clan Carid on?” he asks.

Spook leans over his shoulder and finds the pages at the back of the book. She has nearly reached it when her father suddenly remembers where it is too in the mammoth book and pushes her hand away. There’s two younger Mandalorians sat beside him, eagerly looking over his shoulder and the crowd gathered around him are just as interested in what’s going on. Lew presses the book open to the correct page and begins reading out names on the page and after a number of names, one of the Mandalorians pipes up that he said the name of their father. Lew turns the book so they can look at the page as Spook backs away, leaving her father to explain Clan Carid to this younger member whose helmeted face never wavers in attention for a moment.

Spook steps back, allowing her father to take over and pulls herself up on a nearby table. Din steps away from his kid, satisfied that Grogu isn’t going to be at a disadvantage and joins Spook, leaning on the table though still within reach if the game got too rough. They watch in silence for a while as Lew answers questions about different family lines and adds names to pages. Spook smiles unseen under the helmet, knowing that her father has always valued this more than being a Sith Hunter. While he took great pride in his work and teaching Spook to be a warrior, he always emphasised there was more to being a Mandalorian than the latest war. Family and creed are the two cornerstones of Mandalorian culture and the civil war, the Empire and then the purge nearly destroyed all of that. Scattered across the galaxy either alone or in coverts it’s hard to practice either of those things on the run.

“Your mother was Clan Kryze?” Din asks suddenly, breaking into her thoughts.

Spook doesn’t answer right away, feeling her emotions jostle around in her chest. “She was a cousin of Bo Katan and Duchess Satine, same grandparents and same red hair which is where I get it from. When Bo Katan says my father abandoned her on Mandalore, that isn’t total fiction. Dad begged her to come with us but she wouldn’t leave Mandalore, preferring to die on her home world than be scattered to the wind like the rest of us.”

“Did your mother support Bo Katan?” Din asks carefully.

Spooks head drops, her hands tangling in her lap. “Yeah. Dad’s loyalties were ripped both ways, his job which he loved and had been in his family line for four generations or his wife, who openly supported Death Watch and spoke out against Duchess Satine’s pacifist ways. When Death Watch attacked Dad finally took his stand and tried to warn Duchess Satine of the plot on her life, but was too late. He only just managed to escape off world with me and had to leave most of his kit, including his jetpack behind. The only part of his kit that’s original is his helmet. The rest as they say is history.”

Din takes a few moments to process this, silently watching Grogu wave a stick at the much taller Mandalorian children. “Your anger towards Bo Katan is understandable.”

“And what she tried to do to you.”

“I’ve had worse,” Din replies quickly, like he didn’t spend a month unable to move his arm.

“I don’t just mean that. She manipulated you,” Spook presses. “She sent you to Vandor thinking Mandalore’s favourite ghost story would do her dirty work and failing that she could say you defected, giving her probably cause to engage you in a fight to the death.”

Din doesn’t answer straight away but eventually looks back at her. “Like I said. I’ve had worse.”

Spook holds his gaze wishing not for the first time she wasn’t staring through two layers of beskar at him but he looks away, finding his son across the room. The stick fight has simmered down, the kids now sat on the rug eating soup and for once Grogu isn’t being fussy about his food. Spook looks back across the room where her Dad is comforting a Mandalorian who’s hunched over, shoulders shaking. He looks young, head bent so he can sneakily rub his nose by only lifting his helmet up a few inches. Lew rests a heavy hand on the young Mando’s shoulder, gazing down at him sympathetically while squeezing his shoulder. Spook suspects there will be a few of those tonight. Not for the first time she wonders if its best to know your entire line was wiped out or to spend your whole life hoping to accidentally run into your kin.

The history of the Mandalorians is tragic and while they’re numbers are few, they fared better than some races that were totally wiped out by the Empire. While it’s a miracle that Lew has preserved the records, the printed page tells of entire family lines snuffed out in minutes or lone individuals left to trawl the galaxy for their own kind, not meeting another Mandalorian for years. Their numbers were once in the hundreds of thousands were reduced to scattered coverts and broken families. And while in this time of uneasy peace they have the opportunity to regroup and rebuild, it will take decades, if ever to unwrite the hurt and trauma coded into everyone’s DNA.

Terr wanders across the room and joins them. “Your Dad is a walking encyclopaedia of Mandalorian history, I don’t know how he keeps it all up here,” he says tapping the side of his helmet. 

Spook looks away from the young Mando and her father. “It’s his thing all right. I used to hate the lessons as a kid but I realise now that one day I will be carrying around the massive book doing his job. And I’ve come to realise how important it is.”

“Without knowing who you are you can’t possibly have a concrete future. Most of these Mandos might know who one of their parents are, both if they’re lucky but where they fit in the grand scheme of things is a mystery. Being shown on a page that their parents and grandparents, even great grandparents were on Mandalore or that they fought in the Civil Wars is so important. It reaffirms your identity,” Terr muses, leaning on the table beside Spook.

“Were many killed in Ithor?” Din asks.

“Enough,” Terr says grimly. “We’re going to have to figure something out, we’re nearly at capacity as it is.”

“We’ll sleep on our ship,” Spook says.

“I doubt your Dad will get much sleep,” Terr says with a slight laugh.

“He probably won’t.”

“What are your options for a second covert?” Din asks, always the pragmatic solutions person.

Terr sighs heavily. “Mandalore as I’m sure you’re aware is totally uninhabitable. Decades of civil war destroyed it and then the Empire nuked it. Nothing is left, not even a rock to crap behind. Concordia is much the same, as is Mandrilla. The only reason we’re here is this mine was abandoned long before the first civil war so it wasn’t on anyone’s radar and we had an old timer in the troop who remembered it.”

“Tracyn is too volatile,” Spook adds to which Terr nods.

“How about Concordia Dawn?” Din asks.

Terr looks back across the room, shifting awkwardly in his armour. “I wouldn’t be caught dead within two parsecs of that planet. That place was risky before the Empire and then I heard was overrun by the Empire after. I have no idea what state it’s in now and I’m not keen to find out either.”

“How about that tropical planet…” Spook trails off wracking her brains. “Phil…. Phis…uhhh.”

“Phindar,” Din supplies.

“Phindar? Yeah. That’s a definite no. It’s under New Republic jurisdiction these days.”

Spook looks at Terr. “So? Nevarro is too?”

Terr shakes his head. “There’s no longer a covert there and the New Republic wouldn’t have set up shop there if there still was. You have to remember how we look to the outside world- Mercenaries and Bounty Hunters. Not exactly upstanding citizens of the New Republic and they definitely don’t want us on their patch. They haven’t been actively running us off planets, but they haven’t welcomed us with open arms either.”

Spook lapses into silence, once again annoyed at how her kind are perceived to the outside world and as a result don’t seem to merit any consideration by the New Republic. Of course, part of the reason they had such a reputation was thanks to notorious individuals such as Bo Katan, Gar Saxon and Din’s friend Boba Fett. And while Mandalorians had been mercenaries in the past, most didn’t side with the Empire. They had strong moral compasses it’s just they were usually aligned to their own agenda. Without a home world, coverts such as the one that raised Din were allowed to spin the truth as they saw fit and Mandalorians would never be taken seriously, forever just a bunch of free-wheeling, blaster-toting troublemakers who-

It’s a flash of purple armour across the room that triggers Spook’s memory. “Krownest. Is Krownest inhabited?”

“Aaah that’s tricky…” Terr falters.

“Tricky how?”

He gestures. “A couple of years ago we had the same idea. I wasn’t here when it happened, heard about it later. Basically, eight went on a ship but only two came home and refused to talk about what they saw.”

“Can we talk to them?” Spook asks.

Terr shakes his head. “No good. They both went missing on the edge of unchartered territories chasing a tracking fob.”

“What was their last position?” Din asks.

“Somewhere out near Illum.”

Spook looks up in surprise. “The planet that Jedi crystals come from?”

“So I’m told,” Terr shrugs.

A shiver trails down Spook’s spine raising goosebumps along her arm. Illum had enormous significance among the Jedi, the planet being the primary source for kyber crystals in the galaxy that they used to power lightsabres as well as her own whip. Of course, where you could find a Jedi, you were just as likely to find a Sith in its place. While anything could have happened to them, something about their going missing out there suddenly felt off for reasons she couldn’t label.

“Is Krownest inhabitable?” Din asks.

“As in liveable? Sure. Breathable oxygen, bloody cold but then so is this place. Mind you I’d rather wear my full kit in the snow than some desert planet where it’s a million degrees,” Terr shrugs.

“It’s the former stronghold of the Wren clan, last I heard it fell to the Saxons who supported the Empire,” Spook explains to Din. “My guess is there’s something from the Empire still there.”

“Only one way to find out,” Din says, with an eager edge on his tone.

****

Spook wakes early the following morning with Grogu scraping his claws down the front of her helmet, gurgling cheerfully. Spook jerks away and looks up, realising her father is looming over her, responsible for Grogu being shoved in her face at this ungodly hour.

“What time is it?” Spook mutters sleepily.

“Early. Din wants to head off so I thought I’d wake you and tell you the same thing I told him because I’m certain he only hears about two percent of what anyone says,” he says, scooping Grogu up to prevent him from scratching up her visor any further.

Spook sits up on her makeshift bed on top of a crate in the cargo bay, wrapping her blanket around her. It’s not the comfiest place she’s ever slept but certainly not the worst. The covert could only spare one cot, so Spook gave it up for her father instead settling down on top of the crate. Din tried to give up his sleeping pod for her but she refused, preferring the crate a few feet from Din’s pod.

“What’s that?”

“If you get to Krownest and find its overrun with Imperial Super Commandos, get the hell out. Don’t get cocky, bail. Am I understood?” her father says firmly, glaring down at his daughter.

“The Imperial Super Commandos were-“ Spook begins tiredly.

“We don’t know that,” Lew cuts her off. “We think they were wiped out, but we don’t know that. I was talking to some of the older covert members last night and they reckon that if they survived, they fled to either Krownest or Concordia Dawn after the battle of Jakku which is the last time anyone saw them. I personally don’t think they were all wiped out, they were much too clever and ruthless.”

“If they’re still around they need to be turned or stopped before Bo Katan gets any bright ideas,” Spook murmurs sleepily.

“Spook, they threw in their entire heritage in for the Empire. There is no turning them,” Lew says warningly.

“Yeah. True.”

“And Clan Saxon and Clan Kryze hate each other and both hate Clan Wren. I highly doubt they will join forces… but I’ve seen weirder things happen.”

“I forgot about that. It’s so hard to keep track of who Bo Katan hates this week,” Spook replies with a loud yawn.

“I need you to promise me you pair won’t do anything stupid. Super Commandos are a completely different species to the rest of us and you two will be killed. Come back and we can figure out a plan,” Lew says as Din slides down the ladder from the cockpit and joins them.

Lew hands Grogu to Din before turning back to Spook, resting both hands on the side of her helmet. Spook reaches up, wrapping both her hands around his wrists as her father gently leans down and rests the forehead of his helmet against hers. Spook exhales softly, feeling her father’s love radiate through his armour and warm her down to her soul. She had woken with a nightmare last night, that her father and Grogu had been on the X4 when it exploded. She hoped her little shriek of terror hadn’t woken Din who was a light sleeper; unlike her father and Grogu who could probably sleep through artillery fire. Spook grips his wrists tightly, never wanting to let go.

“Come back alive _ad’ika_ ,” he murmurs.

“I will,” she replies softly.

Lew pulls away and waits for Din to finish his goodbyes with Grogu before he reluctantly hands his son over. Lew tucks Grogu securely in his arm like any other baby before slapping Din on the shoulder. “You need a bigger sleeping pod mate,” he says before stalking off.

Spook avoids Din’s gaze, shaking her head in embarrassment. The old man never took a day off. Din raises the rear tailgate on the ship and then looks across at Spook. “You ready?”

Spook nods. “You heard the bit about Super Commandos?”

“I’ve never heard of them before.”

Spook stops herself from saying ‘you were raised in a cult, that’s why’ and shrugs. “Most Mandos think they were wiped out, but every so often someone claims they saw one on some godforsaken backwater planet.”

“You don’t?” Din asks from halfway up the ladder.

Spook watches him ascend the ladder. “I don’t know what I think.” 

Spook slides into the co-pilots seat, slinging one leg over the arm rest as Din begins powering the ship up. The nights snowfall falls from the wings of the ship as it slowly rises off the ground, Din careful to avoid the other ships parked in the narrow gully. As he turns the ship around, Spook sees the tall figure of her father on the ground with a small bundle, Grogu, tucked in the crook of his arm and feels her heart clench. She looks across at Din who is carefully manoeuvring the ship but his helmet is turned that way too, as if watching them disappear. Her father raises a long arm and waves slowly as Din finally looks back over the dash, in the direction of approaching space and not for the first time Spook wonders how he survived for eighteen months without seeing his kid. He once made a flippant remark about spending three months blasted out of his brain on spice and spotch’ka on Tatooine with no reference to when, Spook suspecting it was the three months directly after he gave up Grogu to Luke.

“Who are Clan Saxon?” Din asks as he powers the ship up into lightspeed on the edge of space.

“Backstabbing, murderous traitors.”

“That’s most Mandalorians.”

“I mean they’re considered backstabbing murderous traitors by they own kind, not everyone else,” Spook replies in amusement. “They threw their lot in with the Empire and stabbed Bo Katan in the back. Gar Saxon was the puppet prime minister of Mandalore after Duchess Satine was killed but of course Darth Maul was really running the show. He was then killed by Ursa Wren, the matriarch of the Wren clan which sparked civil war between the two clans on Krownest. His brother, Tiber then took the role and personally I think Tiber is the bigger bastard of the two but that’s just my opinion. I mean he threw away his beskar for plastoid armour.”

“He gave up beskar for… plastoid?”

“Yeah, white plastoid that made him look like a stormtrooper. I never got that. I mean I did. He had a weapon nicknamed The Duchess that targeted beskar and super-heated it disintegrating the wearer but still!”

Din turns his head slowly to look at her. “A weapon that can destroy beskar?”

“It has been destroyed, relax.”

“Are you sure?”

Spook shrugs. “Sabine Wren designed it in the academy and-“

“A Mandalorian designed a weapon that could be used on beskar wearers?”

“Yeah. Sabine Wren, of Clan Wren made a weapon that can destroy beskar. Not smart, but it happened. Anyways, she destroyed the blueprints and the prototype but Tiber Saxon had one. The range was thankfully lousy but Thrawn convinced him to kidnap Sabine and make her improve it. Thankfully that never happened and it was destroyed and Tiber was killed.”

Din turns his chair back around, stabbing a few buttons. “Clan Saxon are all dead?”

“We think. But given that those Mandos who went to Krownest got their cages rattled by something, maybe they didn’t all die out,” Spook gestures.

Din dosnt answer instead scrolling through his map of the known galaxy. Spook sees it stop at the edge of the mapped galaxy and wonders herself if the Empire is out there, beyond the edges of the Outer Rim. A single dot on the edge of the frame marks Ilum.

“Those two Mandalorians… the ones who went missing out past Ilum,” Spook says haltingly. “Something happened to them.”

“Plenty of things can go wrong chasing a fob.”

“No. This is different. Ilum is a hotspot among the Jedi. They found something… or saw something out there.”

“Like?”

“The Empire? We know they’re forming and Ilum is right on the edge of the unchartered territories. The planet is rich in kyber crystals and is strong with the force,” Spook replies, the truth of what they saw or what they encountered is there, on the tip of her tongue like trying to remember an infrequently used word in Huttese. Its right there but she can’t quite reach it.

Din turns in his seat and faces her. “Who did you go see after Werda?”

Spook stiffens. “A friend.”

“Does your father approve of this friend?”

Spook pushes herself out of her seat and heads for the door. “Are you jealous?”

Din finds her a few minutes later in the galley making a pot of coffee. Spook pushes the mug of black coffee across the counter to him and turns her back to him. Din watches her pull her helmet off, admiring the messy brown plait tinged with red that falls almost to her waist. She places her helmet on the counter before picking up her mug and taking a sip. Din turns his back and does the same, watching her blurred outline in the metallic walls of the galley.

“I heard you… during the night,” Din begins falteringly. 

“Oh… sorry. Bad dream,” Spook mumbles in embarrassment. She had a feeling she woke him; he was only a few meters away with the door of the pod up and Grogu tucked against his chest.

“I have plenty of nightmares too, mostly about Grogu,” Din begins softly, catching Spook off guard with the admission. “Sometimes real events, sometimes fictious. But after Werda, I dreamt of a rocky beach and waves crashing on noisy pebbles. You were there, with the Jedi. And I felt calm.”

“Some dream,” Spook says breathlessly, her heart skipping a beat.

The countdown timer alerting them they were approaching Krownest goes off up top startling Spook. Spook chastises herself for startling as she turns to drop her nearly empty mug in the sink before putting her helmet back on, prompting Din to do the same. Spook goes to step past him but he blocks her path, as if silently demanding an answer, his gaze almost palpable even through the visor. Her face, tangled with emotions but hidden by a layer of beskar looks up at him, before shoving past him with a metallic scrape.

By the time Din has slid back into the captains seat the ship is hanging on the edge of Werda, an icy planet covered in thick clouds. As the ship glides through the atmosphere, the heavy snow clouds close around them lowering visibility to almost zero. Spook watches as Din uses the infrared to search for life on the ground but currently is raising nothing, just a cold, empty wasteland. The clouds part briefly revealing magnificent jagged mountains capped in snow sailing beneath the ship that falls away to sweeping valleys full of black pine trees dusted in snow. Her father has spoken about Krownest a few times and was right, the planet was stunning.

The ship coasts over the surface of the planet for a while in the upper atmosphere, hopefully off anyone’s radar. Din and Spook are silent within the cabin, Spook still mulling over his dream deciding it must be Grogu’s fault. She didn’t know how the little grub pulled that off, some weird Jedi mind trick obviously but Din had witnessed the meeting with Luke. Spook watches him steer the ship through the grey snow clouds wondering if he figured it out. Luke called him ‘a lightning rod to the force’, unable to wield it himself but drawn to individuals who could. Spook sighs, once again pushing that feeling away. She was no Jedi; she had no business wielding the force or even trying to learn. It would only complicate her life further.

“The Wren stronghold should be close,” Spook suggests, forcing her mind onto the task at hand.

Din doesn’t answer but the cloud cover parts again, revealing a vast frozen lake and barely visible on the other side is a structure cantilevered over the lake, the light reflecting off the glass exterior. Using the mountain range as cover, Din steers the ship through the clouds, keeping the engines as quiet as possible before coming to land in clearing surrounded by dense forest as close as they dare land to the former Clan Wren hideout. Spook watches the clouds roll silently over the trees promising snow soon that will hopefully conceal the ship from above.

The pair move silently into the cargo hold, checking weapons and stocking up on ammo. Spook slings her sniper rifle over her shoulder as Din lowers the rear tail gate as a blast of cold air wafts inside the ship, seeping between the joins in Spook’s armour. The snow is deep and clean, squeaking against their boots as the pair trudge out into the snow, sticking to the dense forest of tall black pines bending under the weight of the snow. Spook marvels at how quiet snow planets are when the wind drops, like everything is muffled under a blanket of snow. Spook makes a point to follow Din’s footsteps as closely as she can, in case they are being trailed so it only looks like one set of prints in the snow. At some point Din looks back to check on her and seems to realise what she’s doing and shortens his stride, not that she was struggling before that.

There’s a parting in the trees overlooking the frozen lake. Din kneels down in the snow and pulls the scope off his rifle and brings the glass building in sight as Spook hovers a few steps behind him.

“Can you see anything?”

“It doesn’t look like it has been destroyed,” Din replies handing the scope back for her to have a look.

Spook steps forward, using the tree as cover and accepts the scope. The building is at least three storeys high and built entirely from glass and steel. There are no signs of life in or around the building but that doesn’t mean much.

“How the hell do they stay warm in there?” Spook mutters.

Din turns slowly on his haunches to look up at her, as if questioning that’s what she thinks of when they’re on a planet potentially inhabited by Imperial Super Commands.

“What?” Spook exclaims handing the scope back. “It’s made entire of glass and steel, probably with stone floors from the black granite that’s in the mountain ranges around here. It would be like living in a freezer.”

Din straightens up, reattaching the scope to the rifle before pausing to look at her and shake his head slightly before walking off. Spook casts one more glance at the building before following him.

The trees begin to thin out as the sound of water cascading off a waterfall grows louder and the ground seems to narrow. Occasionally the trees will part, revealing frozen lake to their right or plunging canyon lined with trees to their left. Spook peers cautiously over the edge and there is a deep lake at the bottom of the range they’re crossing, frozen around the edges but thawed out towards the middle where the waterfall cascades into its inky depths.

Despite herself, Spook begins to imagine this planet being slowly populated by Mandalorians. As the trees part near the river, she imagines log cabins with smoke curling from their chimneys and snow-capped roofs with Mandalorian children running around in the snow. She looks back at Din who’s inspecting the river with his back to her and finds herself imagining him semi-retired here with Grogu. Spook shakes her head forcing herself not to dwell on that particular fantasy.

Din stands at the edge of the crystal clear, bitterly cold river, water rushing past before soaring over what looks like the edge of the world from up here. The head of the waterfall isn’t overly deep but is wide and the water would be just above freezing and the water is moving fast. Din turns to find Spook peering precariously over the edge of the waterfall.

“You’re not going to like my idea,” Din begins.

Spook turns back, sees the river and realises what he means. Din teasingly takes a step forward, hand hovering over the touchpad on his vambrace as Spook holds her hands up defensively, begin to stammer the word ‘no’ when the trees suddenly burst to life with the roar of several jetpacks. Spook yanks her blaster from its holster as six Mandalorians arc into the sky above the trees, Din pulling his blaster out and spinning around to face them. He has one hand raised is a sign of peace when the other Mandalorians open fire, Din and Spook diving for cover.

Bolts of red from the Mandalorians blasters ricochet around them as Din dives for the tree cover and Spook ducks behind a nearby boulder. Leaning out she fires back at the Mandalorians hovering above the river firing back at her as Din manages to hit the nearest one in the jetpack which explodes, dropping him into the river. The Mandalorian surfaces in the river screaming, one of the other Mandalorians breaking formation as his buddy goes over the edge of the waterfall and diving over the edge after him. Spook spins around, ripping the sniper rifle off her shoulder and finds the Mandalorian carrying his fallen buddy in her scope. The shot rings across the snowy valley as she hits him in the head, both freefalling towards the lake. There’s a distant splash as Spook turns back to remaining four.

Spook leans out from her hiding place as Din hits another one, this time in the head as he’s clearly realised what Spook has; these Mandalorians aren’t wearing beskar, its plastoid made to look like beskar that’s mostly white with some red details. Spook takes aim at the closest one, drawing him off Din and hitting him in the thigh. He falters in mid-flight before soaring after her, firing upon her with a heavy repeating blaster, the sparks ricocheting off the rocks. Spook dives from her hiding place, running across the slippery ridge, trying not to think about the dizzying drop just to her left. She has nearly reached another boulder to take cover behind when she feels her boots hit a patch of wet ice and slide out from under her.

Spook screams as she lands on her thigh, the momentum pushing her off the cliff as she manages to yank the laser whip from her side and coil it around a tree that hangs over the edge of canyon. The lash coils firmly around the trunk as she goes completely over the edge, swinging on the end of her laser whip above a thousand-foot drop that her blaster falls into. Spook grips the ornate handle of the whip in both hands avoiding the on button, heart pounding in terror as the Mandalorian with the heavy repeating blaster appears above her. Spook stares up at him helplessly as he takes aim with his blaster seconds before a red blaster bolt punches through his helmet from behind.

Din skids to the edge of the canyon and stares down at her before spinning around, returning fire at the two remaining Mandalorians who bear down on his, blasters firing. Spook scrabbles for purchase in the canyon wall but it’s too far away as she then tries to pull herself up the whip, hand over hand. She has inched one hand over the other when she hears the tree that Din is backed against and her whip is coiled around creak warningly. Spook swears loudly which alerts the other Mandalorian to her location as he breaks formation and hovers out over the edge of the cliff. Din tries to fire at them both but is forced to focus on the one closest to him as the second Mandalorian fires a shot at Spook which she swings on the end of the whip to avoid. The tree trunk groans as Din manages to finally take down one of the Mandalorians just as the other one fires a shot at Spook, hitting her in the wrist.

Involuntarily Spook lets go with a scream of pain, freefalling into the canyon, the edge blurring away from her as the thin air is sucked from her lungs. Somewhere high on the canyon edge she hears Din scream her name seconds before she is hit hard in mid-air by a solid object that wraps around her waist. For a second she thinks its Din who flown down and caught her but as her head turns, she realises she’s looking up at a white helmet with a red triangle painted above the visor. Spook struggles, kicking and screaming as he soars up over the trees but it’s useless as the Mando is much bigger and stronger than her. Spook can feel the heat from his jetpack burning against her legs as she kicks and fights him managing to swing a fist against the side of his helmet.

The black granite floor of the Clan Wren stronghold rushes up to meet her as the Mandalorian carrying her drops her unceremoniously on the floor. Spook lands painfully on her hip and goes to roll away but he kicks her brutally in the side. Spook feels at least one rib break instantly, the pain shooting through her side like lightning as the air is pushed from her lungs. Spook screeches in pain, doubled over and gasping for air, aware of many sets of boots closing in around her as he stamps a boot down on her thigh, pinning her down. Her vision is blurred with clouds of black as she clutches her side, coughing blood onto the inside of her visor as one set of boots steps right under her nose.

Spook forces herself to look up, determined to see the face of the Mandalorian who no doubt was about to take her life. He wears the same white armour but with a cape edged in red that hangs from his shoulders sweeping across the ground. His helmet is typical of the Imperial style, just a narrow visor around the eyes and the antenna stalks from both ear pieces, white with red details. He crouches down in front of her and seems to be assessing her.

“Remove the helmet,” he nods to the Mandalorian pinning Spook’s thigh under his boot.

Barely able to speak from the pain, Spook manages a screech of ‘No’ as her helmet is ripped off. Spook tries to drop to the ground, to shield her face from the dozen set of eyes, but the Mandalorian pinning her down grabs her plait, yanking it back so she’s forced to stare up in the face of their leader. Breathing heavily, Spook manages to hold herself up on the heel of one hand, the other wrapped around her ribcage so she’s not being yanked back by her hair.

Unhurriedly, he removes his own helmet revealing a young face, possibly in his late twenties, early thirties with cold blue eyes, pointed features and fair skin. Spook feels her heart stop, realising who he must be.

“Look at those eyes,” he says softly, in a clipped refined accent. “They’re as dark as deep space.”

He lifts a gloved hand to brush her cheek, Spook feeling her skin crawl as the pain from her rib volts through her threatening to steal her consciousness but she refuses to yield to it. “Do you know who I am?”

Spook breathes heavily, wishing her mouth weren’t so dry so she could spit in his face as he retracts his hand, settling on his haunches. “I’m Nero Saxon, the son of Tiber Saxon, the heir to the throne of the Mandalorians.”

Spook manages to hurl a nasty Mandoa insult in his face, relishing the momentary look of shock that crosses his blue eyes at being told his manhood is smaller than an Ewok’s. He hides it well and straightens up, looking at the Mandalorian pinning her down. “Was she alone?”

“There was one other but he’s been dealt with,” he replies.

Nero looks down at her, tucking the helmet under his arm. “Take her to my quarters and make sure the other one has definitely been dealt with and their ship destroyed. I’ll get it out of her myself where their covert is.”

****

Its many hours later when Nero finally steps through the heavy double doors of his quarters and sweeps unhurriedly across the floor to where Spook is chained on the floor. By now the pain had subsided to dull agony and she is forced to curl up on the cold stone floor unable to stand. Heavy shackles have been secured around each wrist that are fixed by chains against the opposing stone walls of the room. Nero places his helmet down and warms his hands on the flames of the open fire that’s across the room before sweeping his cloak off. Spook’s dark eyes watch his every move, glaring daggers across the room at him as he finally saunters over and crouches down in front of her.

He reaches out a gloved hand to cup her chin but she jerks her head away. Nero tuts, capturing her chin and forcing her to stare up at him with venomous dark eyes. “Why is it the Child of the Watch are hiding the prettiest faces under those helmets?” he muses.

As a young child, her father had taught her many unsavoury habits that her mother likely wouldn’t have approved of and spitting with deadly accuracy was one of them. The globule of spit hits Nero square in the eye as he recoils nearly overbalancing but managing to catch himself, gagging in horror. He straightens up, wiping his eye in disgust before looking back down at her.

“Don’t you know who I am? I am the Manda’lor of our people!” he rages in disgust.

“The only Manda’lor I kneel before is Din Djarin,” Spook snarls up at him.

“Who??”

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore who won the Dark Sabre from Moff Gideon in battle.”

Despite himself, Nero’s face shows more emotion than intended- mostly shock and fear. “You’re lying,” he says softly.

“You’ll find out if I’m lying,” Spook replies confidently.

Nero turns his back and strides across the room to a dresser before pulling out a huge pair of shears. Stepping behind her, Nero winds her plait in his hand, pulling her head back against his leg plates. “Who are you and what’s your clan?”

Spook is partway through another classic Mandoa insult when the shears click dangerously close by her ears. Nero hurls her plait at her feet as her hair slowly falls across her face. The sob tries to force its way up her throat but Spook manages to hold it in as hiccupping noise instead, staring in horror at her plait coiled on the floor in front of her. Spook loved her hair, much of her attire and the way she carried herself was very masculine as most Mandalorian women were, but her long reddish-brown plait was her one little feminine feature that she treasured.

Nero grabs hold of clump of hair and holds the shears against her skull, yanking her head back against his leg. Spook feels the tears, seep out of the corner of her eyes as she forces them shut. “A name my dear and what covert you’re from.”

“My name is Tarin Fen and I am from no covert.”

The shears click, the tips of blade nicking her skull. Spook gasps in pain as Nero drops a handful of her hair over her shoulder. The two-inch-long strands, cascade gently down to the ground, landing silently on the stone floor. This time the sob rattles out of her chest. Nero grabs another tuft and holds the shears against her head as blood begins to trail slowly down her temple.

“What covert are you and the other Mandalorian from?”

“No covert.”

The shears glance against her skull once more as Spook gasps in pain, trying to pull away. Nero opens his hand and lets the clump of hair tumble to the ground beside her.

“Try again sweetheart.”

“No covert,” Spook gasps, tears blurring her vision. “We’re bounty hunters… chasing a fob.”

Nero, almost lazily grabs another tuft of hair. The sob rattles through her chest making the pain from her broken rib flare up agonizingly. She’s struggling to breath from the sobs forcing their way up her chest and the broken rib crushing against her lung. She barely even feels the blades click against her head this time. The hair tumbles down her shoulder, landing on her thigh plates.

“I don’t believe you. We know there’s a covert in Mandalorian space but we just can’t find it.”

Spook lets the sob rattle out of her, tears streaming down her face. Nero watches her crumple forwards the chains scraping against the ground as Spook hunches over into the tufts of her hair strewn across the ground.

“I swear it’s the truth.”

Nero stands back with his hands on his hips. “I was hoping you’d have a bit more backbone to you being of the Watch. I expect Twi’s to go to bits like this when I start cutting into their montrals but this is just hair darling. If I let you live, it will grow back,” he says sounding vaguely disappointed.

“Then just kill me,” Spook screams at him through the tears.

Nero steps around her. “No. You have much to tell me yet about this supposed Manda’lor and I need a drink.”

Nero saunters across the room, dropping the shears beside his helmet and pouring himself a dark liquid into a short glass before settling in the armchair beside the fire. Spook cries quietly across the room, crumpled over and tears streaming from her eyes onto the stone floor. There is enough slack in the chain for her to wipe her face with the back of her hand as her captor calmly sips his drink, admiring the dark liquid rolling around the cut crystal tumbler. At length he finishes the drink and stands, warming his hands on the open fire. Spook watches as he reaches across for the poker and calmly stokes the flames, logs tumbling about in hearth, crackling and spitting.

Spook feels her heart miss a beat in terror as he crosses the room with the now glowing poker. Spook freezes, her eyes wide in terror as he slowly sinks to his haunches and waves the poker beside her face, close enough the she can feel the heat of it on her cheek. The acrid smell of hot metal tinged with pine ash fills her nostrils as she stares up at him in unconcealed terror.

“Who is this Din Djarin, who you think is the Manda’lor? What clan is he?”

“Clan Djarin,” Spook stammers.

The tip of the glowing hot poker is pressed into her thigh, between the top of her thigh plates and her hip. The scream of agony rips through Spook as she recoils away from the poker, pushing herself back across the ground away from him to the end of the chain. Nero lets her get away from him, watching her whimper and moan in agony in a ball on the ground a few feet from him.

“A clan Spook my dearest, you haven’t got all day.”

“He’s of Clan Djarin… clan of the Mudhorn,” she sobs. “I told you he’s a bounty hunter from Nevarro.”

“Is he guild?”

“He was and then had a run-in with the guild over a bounty and was struck off the register.”

Nero stops twirling the poker and watches her for a moment. “I heard a whisper of a Mandalorian shooting up Nevarro with the aid of a covert in the area over some bounty. I can’t imagine what Bounty in the galaxy could be worth that.”

Spook dosnt answer, the pain of the burn in her leg still racing through her. Spook forces her breaths in even patterns, gritting her teeth as Nero twirls the poker thoughtfully. “Well, you know he can’t possibly be the Manda’lor, he’s not me for one and he’s not even a Wren let alone a Saxon or even a Kryze. I don’t care if he supposedly wields the Dark Sabre, he’s a common muck kicking Bounty Hunter from Nevarro. We have our standards you know?”

Nero watches her writhe in pain for a few moments before stepping over her again. “What was the bounty?”

“A child.”

“So its true?” Nero looks away from her, staring at the wall. “I heard rumors but thought it was too ridiculous to be true, a career Bounty Hunter and Mandalorian throwing it all in for… a child. Wat child could possibly be worth that?”

A heavy knock at the door interrupts Nero, sparing Spook from having to answer that. Nero crosses the room, carelessly throwing the poker back in the hearth before reaching for his helmet and calling for whoever knocked to enter. The door opens revealing two Clan Saxon guarding the door who allows a stranger to enter, coming to a halt before Nero as the doors close behind him. Spook sniffles loudly across the room and the stranger, a heavy set Mandalorian in dark green armour with a belt of ammo around his waist, gazes across the room at her before he idly looks back at Nero.

“Boba Fett! I’m so glad you-” Nero begins, his voice sickeningly sweet.

“What do you want,” Boba Fett snaps.

Nero seems a little thrown by his brusqueness as Spook drops her head to hide her expression of shock. Every Mandalorian knew of Boba Fett, son of the legendary Jango Fett but very few had actually met him. Her father and Din had agreed to disagree about Boba; Din argued that Boba had been instrumental in getting Grogu back whereas Lew wasn’t convinced the Anooba had changed its stripes. Lew didn’t care that Boba was a clone, he cared that he had worked for some of the most notorious names in the Empire and wasn’t of the Watch. Spook snuck another look at the legendary bounty hunter, deciding he wasn’t what she envisioned at all.

“Of course. I have a job for you. I’m sure you have heard of the guild member who shot up Nevarro. I have been instructed to find him and his bounty, and I finally have a name - Din Djarin. Do you know this name?”

“What of him,” Fett replies evenly.

“He was here, on this planet but my men failed me. I need you to find him and bring him to me. I have been instructed to deliver the bounty he stole and he has the Dark Sabre. I must have it before Bo Katan gets it,” Nero replies coldly.

“You called me away from Tatoonie and my business for that relic? Mandalore is a wasteland, let Bo Katan have it,” Fett sneers dismissively.

“I don’t expect someone born in a bacta tank to understand but it’s more than just Mandalore or even a weapon. It represents power, the right to rule, the right to-” Nero begins expressively.

“Spare me the speech, I’ve heard the same rubbish from Bo Katan. Who’s that?” Fett motions across the room at Spook who averts her gaze.

“This?” Nero says striding across the room before kneeling down to grab Spook’s chin in his hand so she has to stare up at Boba Fett. “This is a stupid child who tried to sneak up on us chasing a fob. The apparent Manda’lor left her here to die and fled.”

Boba Fett crosses the room, staring down at her from an expressionless visor. “Is that a kyber crystal?”

Nero has his head turned to answer Fett when Spook takes her chance, launching herself at him and wrapping the heavy chain around his throat. Nero garbles a scream as Fett makes no attempt to help, staring down at Spook who attempts to strangle Nero with the chain as the two guards at the door burst in. It takes a few moments, Spook screaming abuse in a combination of Mandoa, Huttese and Galatic Basic as the guards pull her off him, one of them hitting her hard in the side of the head stunning her. Spook crumples to the ground, vision spinning as Nero stumbles away rubbing his throat, looking rattled.

“They tell me Jabba went the same way,” Fett offers, the amusement evident in his tone. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Can you find Din Djarin or do I have to hire someone more competent?” Nera snaps furiously yanking his arm away from the guard.

“I can find him,” Boba Fett replies confidently. “But my price just doubled.”

“What?”

“Because you have a ticking thermal bomb under your roof,” Fett motions down at the barely conscious Spook. “That’s not just some Bounty Hunter, that’s the only child of The Sith Hunter.”

Nero freezes then tries to look cocky in front of his men. “The Sith Hunter is a ghost story, he doesn’t exist.”

“He’s real. I would think twice about killing her,” Fett replies warningly. “There are no ends that a father will not go to for his child.”

With that Boba Fett turns on his heel and strides out of the room leaving Nero staring down at Spook. His gaze snaps back up to his men. “Everyone pulls double guard duty! Get to it!”

Nero spares one more glance at Spook whose slipped into unconsciousness on the floor and rubs his neck before striding out of the room and slamming the door shut.

****

The packed common room of covert on Werda falls silent, all helmets turning to face Din Djarin who stands alone, wounded in the doorway with Spook’s laser whip in his hand. He finds Lew in the crowd and swallows hard as the older man gets up slowly from his seat crossing the room is slow, heavy steps. Din tilts his head to look up at him, trying to form a sentence when the older man crosses the last few meters with surprising speed for a man of seventy, his hands snapping around Din’s throat.

The whole common room erupts into chaos as Din manages to yell “Let me explain!” as Lew Fen slams him into the wall. There’s shouts and whoops and a few cheers around the room as everyone scrambles for a better view or to stop Lew from killing the Manda’lor. Lew has Din off the ground when three younger Mandalorians manage to grab hold of the older man and pull him away. Terr dives into the middle of them as down the hallway, the Armourer leans out of the doorway to observe the scuffle before returning to her work unbothered. One hand around Din’s throat comes loose just enough for Din to wriggle free, twisting away, gasping for air and scrabbling across the stone floor.

“Let me explain!” Din yells, as Terr gets between them.

“YOU CAME BACK WITHOUT MY DAUGHTER, IM SENDING YOU TO HELL MYSELF,” Lew’s voice echoes through the room like a thunderclap at close range.

“WE WERE ATTACKED!”

“NO KIDDING!” Lew returns, flinging himself at Din but Terr blocks him but only just. “YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE THE NOBLE THING AND LAID DOWN YOUR LIFE FOR HER! LIKE A REAL MANDALORIAN!”

“Clan Saxon are on Krownest!” Din tries to explain calmly but still sounds panicked. “She fell over the edge of the cliff and one of them caught her and flew off to the hideout. I tried to go after them but we were out gunned and I was injured. I don’t know how many Mandalorians are there.”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE IN ANYWAYS YOU COWARD! WHAT ELSE IS ALL THAT BESKAR FOR?” Lew screams at Din, trying to get past Terr.

“And be killed?” Din yells back. “Then you’d wouldn’t even know where to look!”

“SHE IS THE LAST THING I HAVE IN THIS MISERABLE EXISTANCE AND YOU DARE NOT COME BACK WITH HER!” Lew continues, not breaking stride or volume. “I TRUSTED YOU.”

“He has a point,” Terr interjects, trying to be the calm voice of reason. “We can organise a rescue party-”

“AFTER I MURDER HIS MISERABLE ARSE WE WILL!” Lew lunges at Din again who darts away.

“Does anyone know Boba Fett?” a voice yells across the melee.

“There will be no murder in this covert,” Terr pushes the old man back. “If well all just calm down a bit-“

“MY DAUGHTER IS OUT THERE AND YOU’RE TELLING ME TO BE CALM?!” Lew rages at Terr.

“I have a holo here from a Boba Fett? Boba Fett anyone?” the voice yells across the crowd again but is mostly lost in the yelling.

“Yes Lew, before you give yourself a heart attack. We all need to save it and-,” Terr begins but Lew has spotted Din trying to leave, having spotted Grogu who’s watching the chaos in interest.

“I AM NOT DONE WITH YOU!” Lew manages to get past Terr this time and grabs hold of Din.

Lew swings a punch but misses and overbalances, the pair clattering to the ground as there’s cheering in the crowd as Terr wades in trying to pull the old man off. Some try to help but most of the Mandalorians are enjoying the punch up. Din tries to get free as Lew swings another punch at him but his arm is trapped by Terr who tries to pull him away.

“I SAID DOES ANYONE KNOW BOBA FETT!” the lone Mandalorian with the R2 unit finally breaks through the chaos.

“Boba Fett? Where?” Din rolls away from Lew who says the name at the same time.

“We just received a holo from Boba Fett,” the tiny female Mandalorian says tiredly, smacking her fist on the top of the R2 domed top.

The image flickers for a moment before the holo image of Boba Fett, sprawled comfortably in the Captain’s chair of Slave 1 with his boots on the dash appears on the stone floor in front of them. “Greetings Din Djarin. I have just come from Krownest where Nero Saxon is holding the Sith Hunter’s daughter hostage and sent me to kill you for the Dark Sabre. I am docked on the dark side of Krownest’s Moon and will help you rescue her and finally shut Nero Saxon up once and for all. Fett out.”

Din looks over at Lew as Terr finally lets him go. Lew looks away from the holo as it disappears and sits up. “Can we get going now?” Din breathes heavily.

***

Spook gains consciousness on the cold floor, still chained and in absolute agony.

She lays there for a few moments, forcing her eyes to focus on the opposite wall, tasting the metallic tang on blood in her mouth. A shiver from the cold ripples through her, despite the fireplace being only a few meters away. Spook tries to roll into a tighter ball but the pain from her rib shoots through her like a dagger, sucking the breath from her lungs. Pushing herself through the pain, Spook forces herself up onto her elbows, her eyes scanning around the room.

Mercifully she’s alone. Across the room the fire has died down to glowing logs in the hearth, the poker carelessly resting beside it. Spook looks away, feeling the lump forming in her throat as her eyes fall on her severed braid still laying on the ground among clumps of hair and splatters of dried blood. Spook hates to think what she looks like and is grateful for the lack of mirrors in the room. There are no windows either, just slate grey walls rising to a high ceiling.

Finding a little more strength, she manages to push herself up so that she’s sitting, breathing heavily as it causes the burn at the top of her thigh to sting painfully. Shuffling painfully across the floor she manages to lean against the bed, screwing her eyes shut as she tries to distract herself from the pain. She has been injured plenty of times on the job- shot, burnt, broken bones, stabbed and embarrassingly hurt herself with her own laser whip a couple of times; but this is different. This isn’t just a broken rib, a burn to the top of her thigh and definitely a few cuts in her scalp; it’s the dishonour of having her helmet ripped off in front of a crowd, being forced to stare her captor in the face, the humiliation of having her hair forcibly cut off, and all of this at the hands of a fellow Mandalorian.

She isn’t aware of the tears leaking from her eyes, until one seeps into a cut on her cheek, the salt stinging a wound she wasn’t even aware of. Spook sniffles quietly, lifting her hand to rub her nose. She examines the chains, the heavy steel shackles and then lets her hand drop, knowing there’s no way out of them. Her only consolation is that Din got away safely.

Spook closes her eyes and forces herself not to think about them, it hurts almost worse than her rib or the burn on her thigh. She inhales as deep as she can manage and releases it slowly, feeling the exhalation trail down to her finger tips, before drawing in another breath. The cold seeps gently out of her finger tips as she pushes another breath as deep as she can into her limbs, feeling it tangle around inside her, before pulling another breath of cold air into her lungs. Spook retreats deep within herself, feeling the pain ebb and wash like the tide slowly going out, as her breathing settles into a steady rhythm.

Spook draws in another breath; the faint metallic taste of air being processed through the oxygen scrubbers of the ship tingle over her tongue. She can feel the darkness of the ship, it comforting with the familiar lights blinking against the opposite wall near the tailgate. Spook takes a step forward, reaching her hand out for the large crate pushed against the wall of the cargo bay, her hand touching a soft blanket. There’s a mound under the blanket that’s rising and falling softly with gentle snores, as Spook takes another step around it, careful not to disturb anything. Her gaze trails across the cargo bay to the sleeping pod, recognising her father’s boots hanging out of the open doorway before she looks back at lump asleep on the crate.

He’s sat up near the top of the mound, his black eyes blinking up at her. Grogu tilts his head, cooing softly at her as Spook reaches the top of the crate, the joy on his little green face tingles through her as she reaches out to gently stroke his ears. Spook looks past Grogu and feels her heart catch in her throat at the sight of Din, helmetless and asleep under her blanket with one arm curled protectively around Grogu. Din’s face is slack and at peace as he sleeps, his shoulders rising gently as he inhales and dropping softly in time with Spook as she exhales. Cautiously she reached with curled fingertips, hesitantly crossing the short distance. Grogu’s head turns to follow her hand, cooing gently in interest as his long ears perk up. The curl of her knuckles reaches his cheek, the coarseness of his facial hair dragging under her fingers and the warmth of-

The door of the quarters is slammed open, jolting Spook back to the present. Spook watches Nero stride across the room, heart hammering in confusion as she realises what she has just manged to do. That wasn’t a day-dream or concussion induced hallucination. She just managed to somehow reach out through the force to Grogu. Nero begins throwing logs on the flames in irritation, stoking the flames with the poker as Spook stares at the ground, still able to feel the prickle of Din’s facial hair on her skin.

Spook is suddenly aware of Nero standing over her with the poker. Her shoulders slump in resignation, the peacefulness of sleeping Din washes away in an instant like a sandcastle taken by the tide. 

“Are you the Sith Hunter’s daughter?”

The exhausted sigh trails out of Spook. “I told you I am the daughter of Lew Fen and Liia Nes.”

  
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Nero swipes near her face with the poker but is clearly pulling his punches. Spook ducks away from it then looks back at him restraining a smirk. Nero, like most bullies, is a horrendous coward and the mere mention of her father has put the wind up him.

“My father has many titles… records keeper, advisor to Duchess Satine, father, husband, brother, warrior… and the one the Empire knew him as, The Sith Hunter.”

Nero stares down at her, barely blinking. “I think you’re bluffing. For him to have been an advisor to Satine and active when you say, he must be dead. If he even is your father, you’re trading on his name for clout.”

“Are you sure you want to find out?”

Spook and Nero regard each other for a long moment, as Nero clearly weighs his options. Spook’s mind drifts from the present as a chill tingle down her spine, presumably from the cold. She pushes it away, forcing herself to focus on the present.

“Where is the covert in Mandalorian space?”

“What makes you think I know?”

Nero levels a disgusted look at her. “A couple of years back we had visitors, Mandalorians seeking to move onto this planet as their covert was getting crowded. I told them they were welcome provided they gave up the old ways and recognised me as their Manda’lor. They refused so we killed all but two, making sure they made it home to spread the message. I know you have come from there, I just need a location.”

Spook holds his gaze. “I have no home and have never been affiliated with any covert.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“You mean to tell me the infamous Sith Hunter never had a home base? That he travelled the galaxy for decades with no fixed point?” Nero says scornfully.

“Have you met a Bounty Hunter recently?” Spook returns sarcastically.

Nero paces across the room, twirling the poker. “We have the same goals Spook; a reunited Mandalore. Our people have been scattered across the galaxy for too long, I merely wish to unite them under the banner of Clan Saxon on Krownest. The days of Clan Kryze are over and my family wiped Clan Wren from the history books. We are the only choice, the only logical choice. This Bounty Hunter you speak of is no one, he has no place at the table, he isn’t even from Mandalore.”

“And yet the galaxy chose him.”

Nero spins around to face her. “Why do you care? What could he possibly-“

A heavy knock at the door interrupts Nero who bitterly yells ‘what do you want?’ to the guard who steps through the door.

“She’s here.”

Nero rapidly snatches up his helmet and drops it on his head, squaring up to face the visitor. Spook feels the air turn to ice around her, raising gooseflesh as the figure in a long black robe sweeps into the room, face covered by a hooded robe. Spook’s heart begins to hammer in her chest as she realised for the first time that Luke was right- she could always sense a Sith before she saw one. For years she and her father hunted together and she always felt them, the icy cold dread that settles in your stomach, long before she saw them. Even Nero looks a little out of sorts, trying to stand square and tall but barely holding it together.

“Darth Khino, thank you for coming at such short notice,” he manages.

The Sith pushes the hood back revealing the red skin of a Devaronian who glares down at him in unconcealed disgust. The male of the species was easily identifiable by the two thick horns than grew from the tops of their heads which the females didn’t have, but often had long hair worn in intricate plaits as this one did. Darth Khino is an easy head taller than Nero Saxon who tilts his helmet to look up at her.

Spook quickly sizes up the Sith- tall, heavily built and seemingly only carrying one lightsabre that’s just visible hanging from a belt around her waist. Spook preferred the bigger opponents, they relied on brute strength and Devorinians weren’t known for being quick and nimble. On a normal day Spook would rate her chances but with a broken rib, exhausted and starving she didn’t like her chances, hoping it wouldn’t come to a standoff.

“This is my planet,” she states in an unnaturally deep voice.

“Krownest is the ancestral home of-“ Nero begins but she cuts him off.

“I only let you live because I have to. If I had my way, I’d rid this planet of your Mandalorian scum. What have you disrupted my meditations for?” she cuts him off angrily.

“We have captured the Sith Hunter’s daughter.”

Spook glares her down as her yellow eyed gaze cuts across the room. Deep in Spook’s core she feels a tingle, like a tide of darkness ebbing at the edges of her soul that she blocks out. The Sith’s head tilts slowly, like she felt the pushback. Her shoulders drop and she slowly crosses the room, standing over Spook. Idly she reaches her hand that’s tipped in long black nails out as Spook feels a wash of darkness hit her in the chest like a rogue wave as Nero stares between them baffled. Spook screws her eyes shut, digging deep within herself and leans against the darkness, holding it at bay. In the centre of her chest plate, the kyber crystal begins to pulse and flicker like a warning light on the dash of a stricken ship. The Devorian pulls the force towards her, Spook feeling herself yanked forwards as if by and invisible rope but pulls back against it, forcing herself to centre on the puddle of light within her, despite the immense, swelling darkness that’s dragging at her. The Devorian drops the force suddenly, her hand lowering to her side as the crystal in Spook’s chest plate stops glowing. Spook slumps forward, gasping for air suddenly aware of her rib burning excruciatingly as the pain of it floods back at once.

“Behead her,” Dark Khino says shortly.

“What?” even Nero startles at the suggestion.

“She’s not just the daughter of the Sith Hunter, she has made kills herself and the force runs through her veins as strong as any apprentice of the dark side I have encountered. If you don’t kill her now, she will become something more powerful than any Mandalorian has been in centuries,” Darth Khino states ominously.

Nero stared down at Spook; his fear palpable even under the helmet. “But her father…”

Darth Khino turned to stare him down. “I am ordering you to kill her.”

“Why don’t you do it?” Nero manages, but his voice twitches in fear.

Her hand rests on his shoulder, palm against the side of his helmet. Nero visibly shrinks, trying to avoid her touch as she stands over him. “Because I am giving you a gift, you snivelling child. Kill her and you will be the one who killed the Sith Hunter’s child and you will be finally out from under your father’s shadow.”

Nero stares up at her, frozen in fear as she retracts her hand like a snake slithering into its den. “Her helmet is mine though. I hear they keep trophies of my fallen kind, its only right I return the favour.”

“Be my guest,” Nero stammers.

Nero takes a step back and yells for the guards to cuff Spook and take her to the atrium. Nero strides from the room as the guards roughly cuff Spook, finally free of her shackles but restrained among two guards. They drag her along roughly, hands clamped around her arms through the cold stone hallways, the Sith striding behind them holding Spook’s helmet. Numb fear settles in Spook’s chest, barely able to feel her own heartbeat in terror as they drag her into the atrium.

The three-sided glass atrium was once the pride of the Wren stronghold but had fallen into disrepair with snow drifting through the missing or broken panels of glass that made up three sides. Spook stares up at the glass ceiling, the thick grey clouds moving overhead and swallows hard. The room is slowly filling with Nero’s men, Spook counting at least thirty who fan out along the glass walls. Spook is shoved to her knees at the centre of the room before them all, staring back at the expressionless Mandalorian helmets in resignation.

Spook never saw her end like this; at the hands of her own kind. In those dark moments where she pondered her own mortality, she always imagined her end at the hands of a Sith; one she probably underestimated because of his age or origin. She even had nightmares of it; driving rain on a desolate planet, a tall figure clad in black and the crackle of a red lightsabre seconds before shew would wake with a jolt. Training her gaze on the snow dusted stone floor she forces the fear down, determined to die like a warrior. Spook lifts her gaze, mustering as much courage as she can manage as Nero steps into the room brandishing an enormous axe.

Spook stares at it, questioning if she’s seeing things. The handle is long, nearly as tall as Nero with a curved, half circle blade and the entirety is clearly made from Beskar. Nero stops before her, holding the _munit’kad halberd_ in both hands at eye level.

“Beautiful isn’t it? Long before the Dark sabre, this weapon determined who ruled our people. It was stolen many centuries ago but is now back where it belongs, in the hands of the Mandalorians and the rightful ruler of our people,” Nero says, in unbridled egotism. “I shouldn’t really use it for such a mundane task as beheading a traitorous muck kicking Bounty Hunter but I can’t resist getting the blade dirty.”

Nero strides around Spook, brandishing the axe. “For decades our people have hidden in fear- from the Empire, from our own kind and from the galaxy in general. We have been hated, reviled and shunned. That ends when I take the throne as the rightful ruler of Mandalore! Our people will be united under the banner of Clan Saxon, no more divisions over family or creed. The old ways brought our destruction but we will-“

“Sir?” one of the men breaks in hesitantly.

“What?” Nero snaps.

“Boba Fett has returned with the bounty.”

Nero makes a noise of disgust. “Then bring him in??”

Spook feels her heart miss a beat in her chest as moments later Boba Fett strides into the room with Din cuffed in front of him and being flanked by a woman carrying a sniper rifle. Din’s head turns to her and across the room Spook feels his horror as he freezes on the spot, Fett having to shove him roughly to move forward. Nero turns away from Spook and swaggers across the floor brandishing the axe.

“So this is the great and powerful Manda’lor,” he sneers.

Nero’s helmeted head tilts as he clearly takes in Din’s armour before his eyes clearly land on the Dark Sabre at his side before his gaze travels back to Fett.

“Your reputation is not unfounded Boba Fett, even for a clone,” Nero adds dismissively.

“Spare me your flattery and pay me,” Fett snaps irritably.

“Looks like I’m getting the blade doubly dirty today boys,” Nero says with a laugh which prompts canned laughter from his men. Spook watches Din’s gaze travel back across the room to her as she realises just how much like shit she must look- missing entire swarths of hair, blood down her face, injured and sleep deprived.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” the Sith says.

Everyone has turned to look at her when the world suddenly explodes in a shower of broken glass. Spook turns her head away to shield her face as glass shatters to the floor deafeningly, everyone ducks to avoid the falling shards. There’s a loud thud behind Spook as a black shadow lands, the afterburner from the jetpack cutting out followed by the unmistakable crackle of the laser whip igniting. Spook turns to stare up at her father whose stood over her in all his glory- the matt black armour, Din’s jetpack and the laser whip crackling with white energy. Everyone seems frozen for a second before more Mandalorians explode through the glass ceiling on jetpacks jolting everyone to life.

Fett gets the first punch in, nailing Nero who’s still staring frozen in terror at Lew Fen, hitting him in the side of the head. Nero stumbles a few feet, reeling from the punch as Din shakes the cuffs off and draws his blaster. The world erupts into blaster fire and chaos as the covert members from Werda engage Nero’s men. Lew drops to his knees beside Spook and begins struggling with her cuffs.

“What did they do… what have they done…” his voice stammers under the helmet as Spook realises his hands are shaking as he tries to get the cuffs off.

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” Spook replies, hearing the emotion in her own voice.

One of Nero’s men begins firing on them, a blaster bolt bouncing off Spook’s back plate. Lew draws his blaster, firing a single shot over Spook’s shoulder and killing him instantly.

“Dang farrik these are the worst cuffs in history,” her father begins as Spook suddenly feels cold.

The crackle of a lightsabre across the room igniting makes them both turn their heads as the Sith sprints across the floor towards them, sabre raised. Spook and Lew dive out of the way in opposite directions as she swings the sabre with a scream of fury, missing them both, the sabre crackling as it hits the stone floor where they were. Lew dives out of the way, reigniting the laser whip, Spook dropping to the floor as he swings it in arc that whizzes as it passes over the top of her within millimetres. The Sith flips easily out of the way, landing on her feet and turns to face them, twirling the lightsabre menacingly.

Across the room Din and Nero are facing off as the fighting between the other Mandalorians spills out of the atrium into the snow, some on the ground and some in the air. Nero runs at Din, swinging the axe which Din darts aside from, the blade sparking as it glances off the stone floor. It’s clear by how much effort it takes to swing that as deadly as this weapon could be, its cumbersome and slow. Din dives for the handle and uses the momentum to upend Nero onto his back before landing on him, pinning Nero the ground by the handle of the axe. One of Nero’s men spots him in trouble, running at them firing his blaster, Din rolling over Nero’s head to avoid the shots as Fett’s offsider covers him, dropping the approaching Mandalorian in two shots.

The Sith screams furiously as she launches herself at Lew once more, swinging the red bladed sabre with the typical fury of the Sith. Lew twirls the whip in flashes of white that spark and crackle as the lash bounces off the stone floor, the Sith barely avoiding the blows. Spook rolls to her feet, still cuffed and takes stock of the chaos- Din fighting Nero over the axe, Mandalorians both inside and outside atrium trading blows and shots, Fett brawling a large Mandalorian near the door and his offsider who’s relying mostly on her rifle to take down stray Mandalorians around the room. A scream of fury from the Sith startles Spook who turns to see her running at Spook, sabre raised. Lew flicks the whip; the lash wrapping around the Sith’s blade and yanks her off her feet.

The Sith rolls to her feet diving at Lew, avoiding the lash and brings the red blade down aiming at Lew’s head. The old man manages to block the blow with his vambraces, shoving her back and swinging the whip in a downward blow. Darth Khino ducks behind the swing, the blade bouncing off the jetpack and Lew’s helmet. Despite being protected by the beskar, the force of the blow knocks the old man to his knees with a grunt. Spook launches herself still cuffed at the Sith, body slamming her away from her father. The Devorian doesn’t go down but stumbles giving Lew a chance to find his feet and Spook to roll onto her knees.

The Sith screams furiously, launching at Spook who ducks aside as her father draws his blaster, firing on the Sith who block the shots easily with the blade. Spook spins around, finding Fett’s offsider across the room who’s just taken down another of Nero’s men. Spook whistles loudly to get her attention, before holding her cuffed hands above her head, the sniper shooting a single bolt clean between them breaking them.

“SPOOK!”

Spook snaps her head in the direction of Din’s voice where he has Nero pinned to the ground with the axe. Din rips the Dark sabre from his belt and throws it across the room. Spook catches it easily, spinning around to face the Sith, igniting the blade.

The Sith runs at Spook but her father swings the whip down in her path, Darth Khino skidding a halt, blocked by a flash of white. Screaming in rage, the Sith lunges at Lew but Spook dives in blocking the blow and nearly throwing her off balance with the upswing. The Sith stumbles back a few steps, Spook diving in swinging the dark sabre, the red and black blades clashing against one another with bursts of electricity. Spook swings the Dark sabre once more the instinctively ducks as her father dives in the whip crackling over his head as it swings in a broad arc, severing the Sith’s right hand. The lightsabre clatters as it hits the floor which distracts Nero long enough for Din to finally knock the axe from his grip and knock him out cold with the handle.

The Sith screams in agony clutching the stump, staring at father and daughter with glowing yellow eyes, chest heaving. Darth Khino clearly takes stock of the room, Nero’s men are either dead or outnumbered and Din who has subdued Nero before turning heel, sprinting into the darkened hallway. Spook starts after her but her father grabs her arm, pulling her into his embrace.

“Let her go, Spook,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Let her go.”

Spook hugs her father as Din cuffs Nero and the last of his men are either killed or captured. Fett takes charge of Nero as Din tiredly drops a hand on Fett’s shoulder, before he walks across the room to where they’re embracing, bending over to pick up Spook’s helmet. Spook untangles herself from her father, rubbing her face as she accepts the helmet Din offers her and gladly drops it in place.

“Thank you,” Spook manages before offering Din the Dark sabre back.

He hesitates before accepting it, clipping it to his belt as her father bends over stiffly to pick up the Sith’s lightsabre. He turns the hilt over in his hand before holding it up for Spook and Din to admire.

“That makes thirteen,” he says with glee. “Lucky I’m not superstitious.”

“That doesn’t count as a kill Dad,” Spook replies.

“We’ll come back and-“ Lew begins but is cut off by Terr crashing through one of the remaining unbroken panels of glass.

“Guys! We’ve got a problem! Incoming Light Cruiser!” he yells.

Panic ripples through everyone as they scatter for their ships. Spook tries to run, but the pain has returned as the adrenalin seeps out of her system. Lew tucks an arm under hers as they hurry out of the atrium towards the treeline where Spook can make out Din’s ship, an older troop carrier style ship and a curved green one. The Mandalorians from Werda are helping their wounded members across the snow and dragging prisoners with them as the Light cruiser suddenly bursts through the atmosphere, opening fire immediately. Moments later TIE Fighters roar out of the side of the ship, firing on the Mandalorians as they try to flee.

“That’s not Bo Katan!” Spook yells.

“I have Nero and his men onboard! You get out of here!” Fett yells at Din from the doorway of his ship.

“Get back to Werda! We’ll lead them off!” Din yells at the Mandalorians from Werda.

Spook and her father stumble into the ship as Lew slams the door shut behind them. Din sprints for the cockpit, her father hurrying behind him slinging his jetpack off and dropping it on a crate. Spook stumbles over to Din’s sleeping pod as the ship begins to power up and stabs open the button. Grogu startles slightly and then coos loudly when he sees her, stretching his arms out to be held. Spook scoops him up as Din gets the ship off the ground and crawls into the narrow pod, bracing her boots against the wall, settling Grogu in her lap as the door closes behind her. The ship banks hard right, Din opening fire on the TIE Fighters as Spook reaches up and slips her helmet off.

Grogu looks up at her with big liquid eyes, his tiny hand resting on her wrist as the ship rolls and banks in space, trading fire with the TIE fighters. Spook stares back at him, eyes filling with tears as she realises, she can’t avoid it any longer. Its futile to run from the force when it surrounds you and shutting oneself off from it is like trying not to breath. Spook sniffles loudly, rubbing her face with the back of her hand, feeling a growing well of light in her chest. A shot bounces off the wing of the ship with a deafening bang only a few meters away from Spook who barely hears it instead honing in on the warmth growing in her chest. The ship rolls a couple of times in space before righting itself and moments later Din launches the ship into hyperdrive away from Krownest.

The world goes quiet in hyperdrive aside from the steady throb of the ion engines as Spook cradles Grogu in her arms, relief coursing through her that she’s finally safe. Moments later she hears the boots of her father and Din coming down stairs and hurries to brush away her tears. She just knows Nero will wind up in her nightmares for a while and the fear of how close she came to dying won’t be forgotten easily. Spook looks up as her father opens the pod hatch and smiles weakly.

“Out you get kid, I want a good look at you,” her father orders.

Spook sighs, handing Grogu to Din who hesitates, likely because she’s helmetless as her father helps her out of the pod. Spook crashes down heavily on a crate and begins stripping out of the armour on her top half. Din crosses the room and finds a med-pack which he places beside her before sitting down hesitantly across from her, his gaze trained down at Grogu. Spook drops her chest plate beside her as her father examines her scalp, as she rummages through the med-pack for the packet of Spice she knew Din kept in there. Her father takes a hand away from her scalp and snatches the cannister of spice out of her hand before she can get the lid off.

“You can have real painkillers thank you missy,” he mutters, pocketing the cannister before going back to the cut on the back of her head.

“What? Dad? I’m an adult!” she gasps in outrage, ignoring Din whose offering her the packet of white pills.

“Tell someone who cares,” her father mutters before dropping a Mandoa curse. “What the hell did he use on your head kid?”

“Shears of some kind,” Spook replies pushing the memories from her head. “Please cut the rest, it probably looks like crap.”

Her Dad looks down at her and then shakes his head. “You should do it… I can’t.”

“Its fine, its just hair,” she tries to say but the words catch in her throat.

“Its not just hair… you need to do it yourself,” her father replies trying to keep his voice even.

Spook watches as he sits down heavily beside her, suddenly looking old; the Sith Hunter from a few minutes ago is evaporating fast. Spook looks away, picking up the painkillers Din has placed beside her, swallowing a few dry. Din silently offers her a cannister of water, his gaze still trained dutifully on his hands. Spook shakes her head, too tired to tell him he’s seen her face now, that bridge has been burnt. Its strangely endearing though.

“I want to get my rib looked at by someone who’s not either of you two, no offense,” she says tiredly.

“None taken,” Din replies.

“Try not to get yourself captured again kid; I don’t think I have a second one of that in me. I’m getting far too old for this shit,” Lew mutters tiredly.

“I didn’t plan on it,” Spook replies dryly. She looks across at Din. “Where are we going?”

“Tatooine. The ship needs repairs and Dr Mandible is in Mos Eisley,” Din replies without looking up.

Spook slowly shakes her head. “That was the same light cruiser that destroyed our hideout in Vandor, I’m sure of it.”

Din nods. “It was.”

“They know who we are,” Spook looks at Din, her face pulled tight in concern.

“We took out the ventral canons, that should keep them occupied for a bit and buy us some time,” Lew adds. “I just hope they don’t track down the Mandos who went back to Werda.”

“If they have any sense they won’t go straight home,” Spook looks across at her father.

They sit in silence for a moment, her father watching Din who hasn’t looked up from Grogu. “Din can I ask you something?”

Din sighs. “Sure.”

“In your covert, did they teach you that family could see your uncovered face?”

Din’s head jerks up and then he seems to falter as Spook is clearly in his line of sight. “Yes,” he answers hesitantly.

Lew nods, before reaching up and removing his helmet. Din startles slightly, his head turning fractionally towards Spook who grins slightly, before he looks back at Lew. Many moons ago Lew Fen was a handsome young Mandalorian with thick locks of wavy hair, tanned skin and obsidian black eyes set into a strong face with a square jawline; but at seventy his skin had sagged and the once nearly black hair had greyed and thinned out. On his lap, Grogu coos gleefully, his ears wiggling happily. Din looks down at Grogu for a long moment, before reaching up and hesitantly removing his helmet as well.

Lew and Din regard one another helmetless for the first time before Lew looks across at his daughter. “You knew he looked like that under there didn’t you?”

“Give it a rest,” Spook mutters tiredly. 

*****

Peli Motto steps out of the workshop, pushing the goggles up her face as the ship comes to rest in Hangar 35. The engines power down blasting hot air around the circular hangar, Peli shielding her face from the sand that settles everywhere as the engines finally cut out. The pit droids begin to shift warily from their spots, Peli holding up a hand to halt them.

She doesn’t recognise the ship immediately, its old and didn’t relay a ping as it came into the airspace above her workshop, so she has an idea who it could be. Peli pulls her gloves off, watching the tailgate lower slowly and a grin crosses her face at the sight of The Mandalorian, the sunset glinting off his armour as he steps from the darkness of his ship. The pit droids shriek mechanically, clattering back into their shells as he strides down the ramp towards her. Peli’s eyes travel to his side, her smile fading as she realises, he isn’t carrying Grogu in his carrier.

“Still no little guy huh?” she asks in evident disappointment.

The sound of footsteps on the ramp makes her look around Din as Spook shuffles painfully down the ramp, her cloak fluttering in the breeze. Peli stares up at Spook as she joins Din, jaw agape like she can’t believe what she’s seeing when Lew appears at the top of the ramp with Grogu in the carrier. Peli looks back at Din, then at Spook and without warning tears fill her eyes.

“Dang farrik! The dust on Tatoonie! It gets in your eyes! Excuse me a moment will ya?” she says, turning away and rubbing her face furiously.

“The dust?” Din says in amused disbelief. 

Lew joins them, clearly puzzled about the mechanic who’s in tears and startles as she suddenly grabs for Grogu in the carrier. Lew goes for his blaster but Din holds a hand up indicating she’s a friend and the older Mandalorian relaxes as Grogu coos cheerfully at Peli who scoops him up. The mechanic cuddles Grogu fiercely who’s chattering away like he knows her as Spook realises Din must have been here a few times. Lew looks across at Din puzzled but he’s watching Peli.

“Well haven’t a few things changed for you lately,” Peli finally looks back at them, her gaze settling on Spook.

“We need to find Dr Mandible, my friend is hurt,” Din says.

“Hurt?” Peli turns and gives Din a disbelieving look before giving Spook a thorough look up and down. Lew immediately bursts out laughing.

Spook sighs heavily. “A broken rib, if anyone cares.”

“Of course, of course,” Peli nods, clearly not believing her. “You can find him on the other side of Mos Eisley, tall skinny building. Tell him Peli sent you.”

“Thank you. And the ship needs repairs,” Din adds.

“I can see that,” Peli replies dryly, pointing up at the damaged wing.

Leaving them she walks under it, looking up at the damage from the recent shootout as well as the repair job the mechanic on Werda did. The pit droids have begun to scuttle around the ship, Spook noting in amusement how they warily skirt around Din and jump when he turns to look at them.

“Who did that?” she demands pointing up at the wing.

“We had a scuffle with the Empire,” Lew supplies.

“Not the blast hole, the patch job! Are you seeing other mechanics?!” she rages.

“I couldn’t fly the ship,” Din replies darkly.

“Sure, you couldn’t,” she snaps. “I should charge you double because I’ll have to fix their job as they didn’t remove the carbon scoring.”

Din shakes his head and begins stalking for the doorway, Spook following painfully. “I’ll be here with your kid,” Lew yells to which Din merely raises a hand in acknowledgement.

“Try to find us some food before we get back,” Spook adds, before trying to jog to keep up with Din but struggles.

“Sheesh, bossy aren’t they?” Peli shakes her mane of curls, watching them leave.

“Been in Tatooine long?” Lew asks parking himself on a box.

“All my life big fella,” she grins, still cradling Grogu.

“I didn’t stop in Mos Eisley much when I was active, mostly swung through Mos Espa for repairs and work.”

“And all this time you coulda been coming here,” Peli replies with a grin, before swinging her gaze around the pit droids who are bumbling around. “Get on with it! We haven’t got all day!”

Spook looks back from the door Din is holding open to see her father chatting to the mechanic. “I can’t take the old man anywhere,” she exclaims.

“Maybe Lew can haggle the price,” Din mutters.

“You wish.”

The pair walk in silence for a while, ignoring the looks of the locals. It’s one thing to see one Mandalorian, but seeing two is like seeing a rainbow above Beggars Canyon. Its late evening and things are winding down for the evening as the twin suns settle over the distant horizon. Mos Eisley is bathed in oranges and golds as street vendors pack up for the night, kids play in the streets and ships trail overhead heading away from the planet as night falls.

“We need to keep moving,” Din says uneasily, clearly noticing the looks. “Three Mandalorians in one spot will draw too much attention and someone will rat us out.”

“And we need credits,” Spook adds.

Din nods. “I’d go to Greef Karga for pucks but I’m certain someone on his crew put a tracking beacon on the Razor Crest.”

“Fett?”

Din doesn’t answer immediately, pausing at an intersection to get his bearings. “Maybe.”

“How about your other friend, the shock trooper? Does she have any legal work through the New Republic we could do?”

Din takes a long moment to answer. “Cara Dune is dead.”

Spook’s head snaps to Din but he’s staring resolutely ahead. “What? I’m so sorry! When did this happen?”

“The holo was waiting for me when I got back to my ship after you were taken on Krownest. Greef didn’t know much just that her X-Wing was shot down somewhere near Camaas.”

Spook processes that information for a moment then shakes her head, puzzled. “Isn’t that near where Alderaan was?”

“Was.”

“Why was she out there? Was she alone?” Spook and Din pause as some kids kick a ball in their path, joyfully oblivious of the two Mandalorians. The older one spins around, realises what he’s looking at and shoos his younger siblings back towards their house. Spook can’t resist waving at them and the younger one waves back, grinning with gappy teeth.

“I don’t know. Greef Karga wouldn’t say anymore, just that he wanted me to hear it from him first,” Din replies eventually.

Spook turns her head to look at him beside her, aware of the sadness in his voice. She never had the courage to ask if he and Cara were more than just friends, the shock trooper helped Din out of a fix once with Greef Karga and he clearly saw her as a friend. And while Mandalorians were supposed to be abstinent until marriage, younger Mandalorians were a lot laxer with the creed than their parents had been, though Din came from a pretty conservative covert. Spook had only met Cara once and she was beautiful in a fierce, indomitable way that Mandalorian men found very attractive in partners. In saying that, Spook didn’t pick Din as someone to have cheap flings but then people had habit of surprising Spook. Maybe one day she’d work up the courage to ask or better yet, plant the idea in her Dad’s head to ask.

“Should we go meet him in person, get more of the story out of him?” Spook asks eventually.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“We can always leave Dad on the ship to keep an eye out if you don’t trust Greef’s pit crew,” Spook adds.

They have reached a tall skinny building bearing a sign in Huttese, Galatic Basic, Bothan and a few other languages Spook can’t read declaring this the office of Dr Mandible. A narrow staircase with ornate steel balustrades winds around the sandstone building like a corkscrew. Din steps up the stairs before stopping suddenly, turning to look back at Spook.

“When you were taken captive by Nero… I was asleep on the ship and… a weird… _thing_ happened,” Din says haltingly, clearly not even sure of how to explain what he felt.

Spook stares up at him, the evening lights glinting off his armour, grateful for the helmet hiding her face as her face as her mind replays the sleeping Din, snoring gently. She can feel the prickle of his stubble under her knuckles and the gentle rhythm of his breathing. Din is still staring down at her, either demanding an answer or unsure of how to describe his own feelings.

Spook shrugs expressively. “What weird thing?”

Din shakes his head and turns back to hammer on the door. “Nothing.”

Spook stares at his back and sighs softly, knowing she’ll have to tell him one day.


End file.
